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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23330023">Eldritch Horrors in Parenting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivalabandoms/pseuds/vivalabandoms'>vivalabandoms</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Javey - Freeform, M/M, Modern Fantasy AU, Multi, Newsies - Freeform, Shenanigans, but they're not all human, it'll be fun promise, romance isnt the main focus, sprace, they're trying to raise a kid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:02:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,075</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23330023</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivalabandoms/pseuds/vivalabandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Soul Promises are legally binding in our world. You both made Ms. Plumber a promise, and you are required to follow through with her wishes. Final ruling: custody of Isabelle Plumber goes to both Jack Kelly and Spot Conlon."<br/>-<br/>in which jack (wizard) and spot (demon) have to raise a human child in their supernatural modern world.<br/>-<br/>modern fantasy au with found family, falling in love, and lots of shenanigans</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>jack and spot are taken up on a promise they made.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tw; su*cide by overdose but it doesn't go into detail</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’re probably wondering why you’re both here.” </p><p>Jack Kelly, ever the ray of sunshine, groaned and leaned against the wall. It was 5 PM on a Friday, and of all the places he could’ve found himself, here he was in a hospital room. Specifically, Room 013 of a dingy little hospital in lower Manhattan. It looked like a normal hospital room. Tiled floors of dirty white, squeaky metal furniture, and the clinical stench of sterilization in the air. The occupant of this seemingly normal room was - </p><p>“Katherine Plumber, I ain’t sure if youse aware of this, but I ain’t got the time for whatever nonsense you’re up to now. I got other places to be,” a gruff voice spoke from the right of the room, startling Jack. He didn’t realize someone else was there. Although, she did say ‘both’ in the beginning… <em> Dammit, Jack</em>, he scolded himself.  <em> Pay attention. </em> </p><p>The man stepped forward. There were many things Jack could’ve noticed about him first. He could’ve noticed that he had a suspiciously familiar tattoo on his wrist or that he was dressed like a sexy Guy Fieri, but the first thing Jack noticed was that he was easily a good four inches shorter than him. <em> What the fuck,  </em> Jack concluded in his head, finally taking in the rest of him.  <em> Wait till I tell Davey about this. </em> </p><p>Jack’s focus clicked back to the present. “Yeah, what he said.” The man grunted in his direction. In agreement? Acknowledgement? He was too stoic to tell. </p><p>Katherine smiled weakly. Her bright red hair was plastered against her face, glistening with sweat. She looked tired. And now that Jack thought about it, he had forgotten to ask why she was in the hospital in the first place. “Now, now, boys. Don’t you want introductions?” </p><p>“No.” The man said immediately, and for a second Jack felt offended. Then he analyzed the stranger’s flame printed shirt again and decided that maybe it was for the best. “I wanna leave.” </p><p>“Can you please just give me a minute, Spot?” Katherine rolled her eyes.  </p><p>Jack stifled a laugh. “Your name is Spot?” </p><p>Spot turned to him, and Jack swore he saw them flash an angry red, almost like a mini fire had erupted in them. “You got a problem with that?” He realized where he’d recognized them from. </p><p>Jack’s smile faltered. “You… You’re not human.” </p><p>“As I was <em>saying</em>,” Katherine interjected, smoothing out the sheet on top of her. “Introductions are due. Jack Kelly, meet Spot Conlon. He’s a demon.” </p><p>“Plumber!” Spot squawked indignantly. Stop tellin’ people!” </p><p>“Oh, it’s fine. Jack’s a wizard.” </p><p>Jack took a step back and looked Spot up and down again. Everything made sense now - the soldiers of Hell he had the misfortune of encountering once earlier had burning pits of coal for pupils, and it seemed only fitting for a demon’s human form to be wearing the ugliest clothes known to man. “Nice meetin’ ya, Spot. I think.” </p><p>Spot grunted. “Wish I could return the sentiment but unless I know why I’s here that ain’t happenin’.” </p><p>Jack nodded thoughtfully. “Makes sense. A’ight Kath, spit it out. Whaddya want? </p><p>Katherine’s eyes darted between the two beings staring her down and took a shaky breath. A drop of sweat rolled off the tip of her nose. “Okay. um, this is going to sound weird but just hear me out… I need your help in raising Isabelle.” </p><p>Silence. Then -  </p><p>“Who the fuck is Isabelle?” Spot asked. <br/>
“My daughter.”  <br/>
“You have a daughter?” </p><p>Katherine gestured to the left side of the bed where a bassinet stood. Jack’s eyes widened. He and Kath had broken up well over a year ago but could it be possible his wizard genes made him some sort of anomaly in this case? Could it be...?<br/>
 <br/>
“Kath, please don’ tell me-”  <br/>
“You’re not the father.”  <br/>
“Oh, thank fuck,” Jack breathed out. He would’ve had a hard time explaining that to Davey. </p><p>Wait, but if the baby wasn’t his then why was he here? Spot was thinking the same thing. “Plumber. Why’d you call me? I don’ even like you. We’re not close. I don’ wanna be part of this. Ain't you got a husband or somethin’?” </p><p>Katherine’s breathing seemed to have quickened. “No. Um, the father ran away. Didn’t want to stick around. And my father won’t talk to me. I have no job, no money, no other family. I didn’t see a choice. I called you both because you’re the only ones looking out for me. Not intentionally, I know. But I do have something of an ace up my sleeve... Jack Kelly and Spot Conlon - I’m invoking our Soul Promises.”  </p><p>Jack felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. What had those simple words awoken? Jack and Spot yelped and looked down at their arms. Their ‘tattoos’ - physical reminders of the Soul Promise they had to keep - were starting to hurt. The two inward-facing triangles on their wrists glowed a bright blue. Jack felt his heart drop to his stomach. How had he forgotten about the Soul Promise? His mind wanted to flashback to the biggest mistake of his life but he forced it away. He had to focus on the now. </p><p>Meanwhile, Spot had already started losing his mind. “No! Plumber, what’ve you done?” He yelled, his eyes fully erupting into flames. Katherine shrunk back in her bed, half-hiding behind her blanket. “What, what? Isn't this how Soul Promises work?” </p><p>Jack could already feel the dark energy crackling in the air. His vision began fading to red. If Katherine hadn’t just given birth, he definitely would’ve decked her then and there. </p><p>“You've doomed us,” he snarled. The colour drained from Katherine’s face. “W-What? I don’t understand-” </p><p>“Y’see Plumber,” Spot seethed, “I gotta fulfil <em>my  </em> Soul Promise. Wizard boy’s gotta fulfil <em>his  </em> Soul Promise. But they’re <em>the same Promise</em>. The oath can’t be undone, and if we break it? We get eternal damnation.” </p><p>Jack stormed towards the shaking woman. “I can’t believe you. This is the stupidest thing-” He was cut off by Katherine gasping and clutching at his shirt collar. “I-I don’t have a lot of time... I kinda, sorta took more painkillers than I needed...” Jack’s eyes widened. He realized her face was twisted in pain, and her skin was cold and clammy. Tears started streaming down her cheeks as he looked at her helplessly. </p><p>“No. No. You can’t... Kath, no.” He stammered. His mind was racing. He tried moving but his limbs stayed frozen. How was he supposed to help her? </p><p>“You’re a fuckin’ coward, Plumber,” Spot whispered. Katherine turned to face him. “She’s yours now. I’m sorry.” Jack watched as her torso fell back, limp. His breathing turned heavy as he steadied himself against the bed. He glanced at Spot, who had turned red and looked like he wanted to resurrect the woman just to kill her again. He clocked Jack looking, and in an instant, they both thought the same thing – <em>Last one to the baby is eternally damned. </em> </p><p>Spot lunged across the bed. <em>Think fast.  </em>Jack held his hand out and knocked the demon to the side from midair with a defence spell. Spot rolled across the floor and jumped up, growling. He cracked his neck and Jack watched as flames engulfed his hands. The temperature of the room increased steadily as Spot roared and charged again. Jack realized this newborn may not be able to adapt to the temperature and quickly zapped her, placing her in a bubble of energy. The bubble acted as a protective layer, rising a few feet above the ground. </p><p>He didn’t turn around quick enough to react and got tackled to the floor. He fell with Spot straddling him, and despite the incredibly high stakes, he couldn’t help but appreciate the homoeroticism of the situation. </p><p>Spot raised his arms, ready to obliterate the wizard in front of him when the door creaked open. “Good news, Ms Plumber, you’re all good to go.” </p><p>It took Jack a split second to realize another person had entered the room. He didn’t wait for the nurse to finish. Grabbing Spot’s shirt and the baby’s bubble, he squeezed his eyes shut. Katherine’s mess would have to be dealt with without them. In an instant, they were gone. </p><p>They materialized on a grassy plain next to a couple of giraffe statues. Jack flopped face-first on the ground and heaved. Spot sat up and blinked. “What the fuck just happened?” <br/>
“Teleportation spell.” Jack groaned as his hand went up to massage his side. Those spells really took it out of him. “Couldn’t let another human get involved.”  <br/>
Spot looked around, confused. “Where’s we gone?” </p><p>Jack winced as he sat up and blushed. “Santa Fe. We’re at the Shidoni Sculpture Garden. First place I could think of.” <br/>
Spot still looked wary. Suddenly, he jumped to his feet and pointed at him. “Where’s the kid? Didya touch her?” </p><p>Jack cringed. “Yeesh, demon, don’ say it like that. She's over there.” He nodded at the bubble levitating a couple of feet off the ground. He scrambled to the sleeping child and inspected the sphere. “Fuck’s this?” </p><p>“’S a protection bubble,” Jack explained. “Soundproofed, ventilated, the whole thing. We can’t touch her till I takes it off.” <br/>
“Take it off then, I’m ready to go,” Spot said, hands aflame once more. </p><p>Jack plucked at the grass near his feet. “Cool it, demon. As much as I’d love to beat you up, this is serious. Maybe there’s a way neither of us needs to do this.” </p><p>The demon narrowed his eyes. “Whaddya suggest’?” <br/>
Jack shrugged. “I dunno... Maybe we should go to the High Spirits?”  <br/>
“Gettin’ the court involved already?”  <br/>
“Do we got a choice?”  <br/>
“I’m still down to fight ya, wizard.”  <br/>
Jack clenched his jaw. “The baby dies with me then. You can’t remove the spell without me.” </p><p>Spot looked thoughtful for a second. He could almost see the gears turning. </p><p>“A’ight. Let’s do it.” <br/>
Jack blinked. “Do what?”  <br/>
“Kill the kid.”  <br/>
His eyes widened. “ Wha - I never said that!”  <br/>
“I know. I'm sayin’ it. Think about it. Without the kid, we won’t have anything to raise. The Soul Promise goes kaput. It works.” </p><p>Jack couldn’t believe his ears. “Are you hearin’ yourself? This is a human child! Katherine's child!” <br/>
“Fuck Katherine.” Spot hissed. “A demon shouldn’t have anything to do with a human child. A livin’ one at least, anyway.” </p><p>Jack stood up and protectively stood in front of the bubble. “Enough. I don’ wanna raise the kid either but we’re not gonna commit fuckin’ murder.” <br/>
Spot shrugged. “Makes no difference to me.”  <br/>
Jack’s mouth curled in disgust. “You’re awful.”  <br/>
“’S just business.” </p><p><em> I hate him,  </em> Jack decided. “We’re goin’ to court and that’s final.”   <br/>
Spot growled – something he seemed to do a lot – and said, “If the Soul Promises weren’t involved, you’d be eatin’ grass right now.”  <br/>
“An’ I believe you.” Jack placed a hand on the bubble and held the other one out for him to hold. Spot scowled and grabbed the forearm offered. </p><p><em> Please don’t let me pass out. </em>Jack squeezed his eyes shut and they were gone just the way they appeared. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>the revised version is up! this will be kinda slow-paced because i'm writing it as a novel so i hope you like it :&gt;</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>legal intervention. enter davey.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’re not even giving us a trial?” </p><p>Judge Tolk, a small troll with bulging eyes, wiped his nose and looked up at the motley crew. “Of course not.” <br/>“Your honour, if I may, why the hell not?” Jack asked. </p><p>Tolk took his glasses off and looked pointedly. “Because a Soul Promise is a Soul Promise. Nobody has the power to negate them. You both need to keep it otherwise, well, you know what happens. It’s an open and shut case, the High Spirits don’t get involved in these.” </p><p>“But there’s two of us with the same Promise!” Spot said. The judge sighed. “I know. The Ancient Book has a set of rules for this exact situation and unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do except regulate your raising of the baby. It's out of my hands, gentlemen.” </p><p>“Wait, so that means...?” Jack asked, fully knowing the answer but needing to hear it anyway. </p><p>“I can't make it any clearer. Both of you have to raise the child together. Soul Promises are legally binding in our world. You both made Ms Plumber a Promise, and you are required to follow through with her wishes. My final ruling: custody of Isabelle Plumber goes to the both of you.” </p><p>“Ya honour!” Spot stood up in protest. <br/>“Disputing leads to damnation.”  <br/>Spot sat back down.  </p><p>The judge continued talking but Jack didn’t pay attention to him. He was used to feeling helpless and like the world was crumbling around him, but this was the first time he felt completely backed into a corner. His head pounded as a million questions raced through his mind. </p><p>“...Spotradamus, if you could refrain from burning your way through my furniture it would be appreciated. Are you ready for your instructions?” Jack snapped back to reality and nodded, still trying to wrap his head around it. What else was there for him to do? He was so hung up he couldn’t even fully appreciate the absurdity of Spot’s given name.  </p><p>“Alright.” Judge Tolk pulled out a massive book and leafed through it. He scanned the pages and found what he was looking for. </p><p>“Firstly, if either one of you tries backing out or running away the Promise gets broken and you face damnation, that goes without saying. Since the child is mortal it cannot be raised Below. You will have to shift residence to the Middle, in case you are not already situated there. Mr Kelly, I see you already live there-” <br/>“Your Honour, I live in a studio apartment with a roommate.”  <br/>“Not an issue. The court will provide you with a residence then.” Jack groaned internally. He'd have to live with this demon?</p><p>“Your Honour? Can’t we live in separate places and have, I dunno, shared custody?” He asked.<br/>Judge Tolk grunted. “The child is too young for that. You will have to live together for five years at least, when the child reaches school-going age. May I continue?”<br/>Jack nodded. At least he tried. </p><p>“You will undertake this responsibility till it reaches 18 years of age,” Tolk continued. “The Promise will have been fulfilled by then and you will be freed. An assigned legal representative will come to check on you once a week for the first two months, and then once a month following that. After dismissal, you have two hours to collect your things, upon completion of which you will be teleported to your new living space. Are these instructions clear?” </p><p>Jack nodded again. He couldn’t bring himself to talk. In his head, he was still trying to rationalize everything. He had to live with Spot. He had to raise a baby for eighteen years. He had to tell Davey. </p><p><em> Davey</em>. A wave of guilt flooded Jack’s chest. This wasn’t fair to him. They'd been together for a little over a year so far, and he knew his boyfriend didn’t have an obligation to stay with him as he raised a kid that wasn’t his. How would he even begin to tell him?  <em> Hey babe, sorry to spring this on you but I’m moving in with a demon to raise my ex’s baby. </em> </p><p>“Judge, what if the child were to... die?” </p><p>The judge narrowed his eyes. “If you’re thinking about murdering the child, I’d advise against it, Spotradamus. If the child dies of natural causes then that is deeply unfortunate. But murder, manslaughter with intent, counts as backing away from the responsibility which will immediately damn your souls.” </p><p>Spot scowled and muttered some unsavoury things. </p><p>“Looks like your Promises have begun engagement,” the judge said, looking over some paperwork. “Go get your things. You and the baby will be transported to your new apartment in two hours.”  </p><p>Jack and Spot gingerly got up and walked out, leaving the baby with the judge. The doors to the chambers shut in front of them and Spot stalked off before Jack could say anything. </p><p>As he walked away, he felt tears prick at his eyes. He blinked them away and looked for the exit. He had to think about how he was going to tell Davey about this. </p><hr/><p>The various Soul Courts of the Whole Wide World were situated in one nifty dimension that had millions of entry portals all over the earth. For Jack, the nearest entry/exit point led him under the Nederlander Theatre on Broadway. After he blipped back into the Middle, he headed to the subway so he could head home. </p><p>Jack opened his phone and typed out a text: <em> omw. we need to talk. </em> </p><p>It dinged after a couple of minutes. <em>What about? </em>  <br/>Jack felt his heart twist. This was going to be so hard. I'll <em>be there in 15. </em> </p><p>He opened the door to his apartment and saw Davey idly stirring a pot. “Hiya, handsome.” </p><p>“Hey, babe.” Jack smiled nervously as he pressed a kiss to his cheek. His heart was beating fast. He didn’t have the guts to go fuck up the single most important relationship in his life. <br/>“I thought we could order Chinese tonight but I found a box of pasta we haven’t used yet so it’s mac and cheese night,” Davey said, holding up a pot of melting yellow goo. Jack couldn’t help but chuckle. “Looks great, Dave. Is it done?” </p><p>“Yep,” he said, turning off the stove. Jack could feel his heart pounding in his ears as he sat on the couch. He couldn’t do this. He watched Davey focus on scooping the pasta out in equal proportions. He was so close to crying. He wasn’t ready to let go of the best thing that happened to him. Worst of all? He couldn’t even blame Davey if he wanted to break up with him. Jack knew for a fact that he wouldn’t have wanted to be in that situation. This was all getting too much for him. </p><p>Davey handed him a bowl and sat next to him. “So, what did you wanna talk about?” </p><p>Jack stayed silent and poked at his goop. <em> I don’t </em><em>wanna </em><em>do this don’t  </em> <em> wanna </em><em>do this I don’t</em></p><p>"Jackie?” Davey asked, gently nudging him. “Hey, what’s up?” <br/>He looked at the concern etched onto his boyfriend’s face and sighed. He didn’t want to hurt him any more than he had to. </p><p>“Dave,” he said, taking Davey’s hands in his. “There’s something I gotta do. It’s not ideal for me or you but I’m being forced to do it.” <br/>“Jackie, you're scaring me.”  <br/>Jack took a breath. “I’m legally obligated to raise Katherine’s baby with a demon from Hell.” </p><p>A beat. </p><p>“Fucking <em>pardon?” </em> </p><p>And so, he started from the beginning.  </p><hr/><p>Davey had stayed silent throughout the explanation. Jack could tell he wasn’t sure what to think. Finally, he spoke. “Let me get this straight,” he said, rubbing his temples. “You made Katherine, your ex-girlfriend, an unbreakable promise to do anything for her, and now she’s using it to make you raise her child with another man?” <br/>“A demon,” Jack corrected, but he could see that didn’t matter. “And she didn’t do it intentionally. She wanted one of us to do it but because she activated both our Promises at the same time, we have to do it together.”  <br/>“Huh.”  <br/>Clearly, he was processing it.  </p><p>After a minute of silence, Jack decided to try his luck. “Davey, can we talk about this?” <br/>“We will. We are. I just need to collect my thoughts.” </p><p>They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Davey did this when he had some internal conflict. He sat up on the couch with his feet tucked under him, fiddling with his thumbs as he fixated on a point where the wall met the ceiling. Jack watched him soundlessly move his lips, probably making a mental pros and cons list. </p><p>Suddenly, Davey spoke. “How do you feel about it?” <br/>“About what?”  <br/>“Raising the kid.”  <br/>Jack thought for a second. “I mean, obviously I don’t wanna. I ain’t ready for parenting. With a complete asshole, no less. But I don’ got a choice,  y’know? I’ll literally go to Hell if I don’t.”  <br/>Davey nodded. “So, what does this mean for the baby?”  <br/>“Huh? I dunno. I mean, being mean to the kid would be a big ‘fuck you’ to Katherine but at the same time... I know it isn’t the kid’s fault we’re in this mess. She can’t do anything ‘bout her mom bein’ a selfish bastard. An’ now that I think about it, I’m ain’t sure if I could bring myself to treat her poorly either. I know what it’s like, growin’ up not feeling wanted. I wouldn’t - no, couldn’t - do that to another kid.” </p><p>Davey smiled and took Jack’s hand. “You’re a good guy, Jackie. It's one of the reasons why I love you. I'm sorry you’re in this mess, but we’ll figure it out, yeah?” <br/>“You mean you aren’t leaving me?”  <br/>“What? Why would I do that?”  <br/>“I wasn’t a parent a few hours ago, Dave. This wasn’t exactly part of our plan.”  <br/>“This is a... complication. But it’s okay. We'll get through it together. What sort of boyfriend would I be if I abandoned you now, eh?” He chuckled, lightly rubbing circles on Jack’s hand.  <br/>The tears Jack had been holding in finally streamed down his face as he wrapped his boyfriend in a hug. They sat like that for a bit, with Jack blubbering about how much he loves him and Davey silently stroking his hair.  <br/>“...Does this mean I need to find a new place to live?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>first night in the new apartment.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Spot was very annoyed with the amount of teleporting he had done today. It wasn't something he was used to, on account of him having lived Below for the last 1021 years. That was probably the thing he despised most about this whole situation – apart from being stuck with some kid he didn’t want. Hell was the only home he’d ever known, and to be giving up his friends and torturing for some infant? It was all bullshit.  </p><p>So, here he was, in front of what was presumably his new apartment. Next to him was a bewildered Jack, bassinet in hand.  </p><p>“Where did she come from?” he heard him mutter.  </p><p>Spot was about to ask why they hadn’t gone in yet when they heard someone heavily climbing up the stairs from behind them. They turned and came face to face with a balding man holding a ring of keys.  </p><p>“You must be my new renters,” he grunted. “The name’s Wiesel, rent’s due on the first every month.”  </p><p>He unlocked the door, tossed a key from his pocket to Spot, and led them into the apartment.  </p><p>“Hey, uh, Wiesel? This may sound a little odd but what’s the address?” Jack asked, placing the baby on the kitchen counter.  </p><p>“How the hell did you even get here, boy?” Wiesel asked. Spot tuned them out and walked around, inspecting. He didn’t like it. Not one bit. But then again, he was used to living in orgy pits and rings of fire. It was unlikely his human form would be able to withstand any of that. He looked into the bedroom and saw that there was a bunk bed, which meant that he and Jack would have to share. He shuddered at the thought.  </p><p>He went back out into the living room and found Wiesel gone and Jack gazing wistfully at the baby. He looked up at him.  </p><p>“Demon. Whaddya think of the place?” <br/>“I hate it. I hate Katherine. I hate the kid.”  <br/>Jack laughed dryly. “Damn, Conlon. Save some lovin’ for the rest of us.”   <br/>“You shut the fuck up,” Spot said, voice dripping with poison. “I don’t wanna be here. Do you know how much I’m bein’ forced to give up because of that bitch? My whole damn life, Kelly. I'm allowed to be mad about this.”  <br/>Jack frowned at him. “What, an’ I’m here on playtime? I'm sacrificing a lot too. I didn’t think I’d have to move and start fathering an infant in less than a day.”  <br/>“Whatever,” Spot grumbled. He crossed his arms and stared out the window. The dirt on the glass didn’t let him look at much but he didn’t care. He just needed to focus anywhere else.  </p><p>Jack stood next to him in a couple of minutes.</p><p>“Look. I know this is hard for you. You're movin' to a whole new environment with a person you don’t like and a baby you don’t want. I get it. I'm literally the only other person who gets it. But this is our fate now. We don’ have a choice. So please, make it easier for all of us and just cooperate with me for the next few years.”  </p><p>Spot thought about it. He did seem to be backed into the corner, and while he never looked at anything on a positive note, maybe this was something that needed it.  </p><p>“I guess if I’m gonna be sharing a room with you it would be better if we got along,” he grumbled. <br/>Jack chuckled. “Thanks, demon.”  <br/>“This doesn’t mean I’m happy though. Just that I don’t wanna accidentally kill you in your sleep.”  <br/>“I thought you didn’t have an issue with murder?”  <br/>He shrugged. “I don’t. But there’s no way I’m doin’ this by myself. Think of it as me keeping you alive out of spite.”  </p><p>Just then, the baby gurgled. Spot froze in his tracks. In the middle of all the moving and fantasy sequences of him ripping Katherine to shreds, he’d forgotten that he didn’t actually know how to take care of a baby. Like, at all. It was the polar opposite of what he’d been doing for centuries.  </p><p>“Kelly... do you know how to parent an infant?” <br/>“I’m starting to realize that I don’t really, Conlon,”  <br/>“So... how do we do this?”  <br/>“Hold on,” Jack said, whipping out his phone. “I’m calling for reinforcements.”  </p><hr/><p>In the ten minutes it took for Jack’s reinforcements to arrive, Spot had situated himself as far away from the baby as possible. He watched as Jack played with it, cooing and letting it hold his fingers. “She’s a very cute baby,” Jack said as he fiddled with her fist.  </p><p>“I bet,” Spot replied, not moving. <br/>Jack glanced at him. “ Don’tcha wanna get acquainted?”  <br/>“Nope.”  <br/>“Aw, c’mon. You  gotta at some point.”  <br/>“Do I? I thought I could parent from afar,” he said, idly plucking at the frayed fabric on the sofa’s arm. “What's it doing now?”  <br/>“She’s a girl, and her name is Isabelle. We need to humanize her.”  <br/>“Fine, what’s she doin’?”  <br/>“I dunno. Existing, I guess. She hasn’t asked for food or anything yet. Is that odd?”  </p><p>Just then there was a knock at the door. Jack jumped up, startling the baby. She started crying, making Spot glare at his co-parent.  </p><p>“Shit,” Jack hissed as he picked her up. “Spot, answer the door.”  </p><p>Spot sighed and got up. He opened the door and was greeted by a tall man. He looked down at Spot and forced a smile. “Hello. Is Jack Kelly here?”  </p><p>“Mhm,” Spot said, opening the door further. “Kelly, your reinforcement is here." “Davey!” Jack said, emerging with the baby on his shoulder. “Thanks for coming. I know it’s a school night but-”  </p><p>“No buts,” he said firmly, taking off his coat and placing it on the counter. “I told you I'm here for you, always.” He bent a little to take in the baby. “Aw, she looks just like Katherine, I’d say.” <br/>“Yes, she’s wonderful,” Spot grumbled. “Kelly, who is this?”  <br/>“Spot, meet David. He's a certified mama bird,” Jack beamed, still bouncing the baby on his shoulder.  </p><p>David blushed. “I wouldn’t call myself that. I have a younger brother and spent time volunteering at an orphanage so I know my way around kids. It's, uh, nice to meet you Spot,” he said with a tight-lipped smile, which Spot returned. He didn’t do well with new people.  </p><p>“O-kay,” Jack said, putting the now happy baby back in the bassinet. The three of them were now standing at the kitchen counter, “How do we do this Dave?”  </p><p>David looked around. “I see a crib... is there any baby food in the fridge? Diapers? Pee pads? Clothes? Toys?”  </p><p>Spot looked at Jack. He hadn’t seen any of that stuff so far, and he’d inspected everything in the poorly furnished apartment.  </p><p>David huffed. “Can I just say that I think this whole thing is so stupid? First of all, making two clueless and inexperienced people raise a baby they have no relation to and don’t want is just plain dumb and is bound to affect the kid in the long run. Secondly,” - Spot glanced at Jack again. Is he always like this? He hoped his eyes conveyed. Jack nodded and waved his hand dismissively, which Spot interpreted as, Always. Just let him finish - “if they are gonna make you do that, then the least they can do is stock you up, at least for the first month, y’know? Or give you a guidebook or something. What if the person was a crackhead? Would he still have full custody of the kid? It's so unethical.”  </p><p>Jack patted David’s arm sympathetically. “I know, Davey. But just because it’s legal doesn’t mean it’s ethical. And we can’t do anything about it either. Disputing leads to damnation, remember? Besides, Spot and I have already come to the conclusion that we’re gonna do our best to make sure the kid grows up well, and we’ve got you helping us out, so we all got lucky.” Jack smiled.  </p><p>“I guess. I still don’t like it,” he said. <br/>Spot snorted. “You and me both.”  <br/>David ignored him. “Okay, so you have basically nothing. Did they prepare you at all?”  <br/>Jack leaned back. “They gave us some money to last us for a bit but that's about it.”  <br/>David nodded. “Typical. Okay, let’s see... ooh, there’s a convenience store a few blocks down. We can go get some supplies for the night and hit Costco tomorrow. What do you think?”  </p><p>“I think that sounds great. Spot, stay with the baby. We'll be back in a bit,” Jack said, putting his hoodie on. </p><p>Spot gawked at them. “You’re leavin’ me alone with the kid?” <br/>“Just let her hold your hand or somethin’,” he said, grabbing the key from Spot. “An’ try not to burn the place down.”  <br/>“I’ll do my best,” Spot muttered as they sailed out of the apartment.  </p><p> So, Spot found himself alone with the baby. She seemed to be asleep again, so he didn’t bother her. He lay across the couch and stared into space. He was already missing his friends like mad. There was no proper passage of time Below, but Spot could feel that Hotshot, Vince, and Myron were probably on their downtime before the next set of souls were to come through.  </p><p>Spot would give anything to be there again.  </p><p>David and Jack were back soon enough. David showed them how to feed her, burp her, change her diaper, and put her down to bed.  </p><p>“She’s only a few days old, so she’s going to keep waking up and crying for most of the night. Are you sure you don’t want me to stay for a few days? Help out till you get the hang of it?”  </p><p>The three of them had surrounded the baby’s crib, where the infant was fast asleep and sucking on her fist. Jack shook his head. “You’ve got school tomorrow, Davey. We'll manage. If anything, we’ll call the court again. It’ll be fine.”  </p><p>David didn’t look like he believed him but he nodded anyway. “Alright then. I'll come by after my morning classes tomorrow and we'll get everything you need. Good luck tonight, guys.”  </p><p>Jack gazed longingly at the door after David left. “Guess it’s just you and me, Spot.” <br/>“Looks like it.”  <br/>Jack sighed and looked around the apartment again. “It sucks but at least it’s bigger than my old place. Have you put all your things away?”  <br/>“I’m a demon. I don’t have things.”  <br/>“Ah.  Shoulda guessed,” he said, gesturing at Spot's torso.  <br/>Spot looked down. He was still wearing the flame printed shirt he’d seen on a human many years ago. “I haven’t used this form much. Never needed more clothes than this.”  <br/>“Well,  ya do now. For the love of my sanity and eyes, please buy new clothes.”  <br/>“Fine,” Spot said, making a mental note to buy the ugliest shirts he could get his hands on.  </p><p>“You’re also gonna need a job,” Jack said as he cracked open a bottle of newly-bought beer. <br/>Spot looked disgusted. “I’ve never had a job and never will.”  <br/>“ Ain’t a demon’s job torturing?”  <br/>“It ain’t work if you love what you do.”  </p><p>Jack made a face. “Yeesh. Anyway, I can’t sustain two people and a baby on my salary so you’re gonna need to get a job too.”  </p><p>“What kinda father can’t provide for his family?” <br/>“We seem to have moved to a neighbourhood way out of my price range, Conlon. Court's given us some money but that’s only gonna last us a month with no pay, so you need to contribute too.”  </p><p>Spot groaned. A job. How fun.  </p><p>“Get some sleep, demon. We have a long way to go from here,” Jack said, tossing the bottle in the bin. “You’re on the top bunk, right?”<br/>Spot glared at him. “I’ll cut you.”<br/>“Bottom bunk it is.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i looked at so. many. apartments. bc i don't live in nyc so this involved a lot of research that i eventually scrapped under the excuse of creative freedom lmao</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>the first night/next morning. a month passes. spot gets a job &amp; bumps into someone.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hey all, sorry for the mini break<br/>i'm back to writing a lot so updates will be sooner!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Demons didn’t need to sleep. In human form they could if they wanted to, but it wasn’t necessary. They often utilized this to their full potential and had all-night orgies, among other things. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>So, it was no surprise to Spot that even though they were woken up by the baby crying to be fed and changed four times through the night, he felt normal and not sleep deprived. Jack, on the other hand, was not so lucky.  </span>
  
</p><p><span>“It’s not fair,” he groaned, flopping face-first on the couch. “Why aren’t you exhausted?”</span> <br/><span>Spot looked up from the fridge, where he was currently looking for breakfast. “Physically impossible, Kelly. It's part of the demon experience.” </span></p><p><span>Jack groaned again and turned himself over. “Lucky bastard,” he said.</span> <br/><span>“Where’s the food?” Spot asked.</span> <br/><span>Jack opened one eye to see Spot rummaging in the fridge. “Cereal. Cupboard. We can start cooking once Davey an' I go to Costco.”</span></p><p><span>“I don’ know how to cook.”</span> <br/><span>“Ugh, you’re the most useless roommate ever,” Jack whined. “You need to learn. I can’t do everythin' myself.”</span> <br/><span>“Y'seem to be handling it fine.”</span> <br/><span>“Shut up.”</span></p><p>
  <span>There was a sudden knock on the door. Seeing that Jack was attempting to merge with the couch, Spot got up to answer it. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“David,” Spot nodded.</span>
  <br/>
  <span>“Spot,” David nodded back. He held up a paper bag and three travel cups in a holder. “I brought breakfast.”</span>
  <br/>
  <span>“Cool,” Spot said, letting him in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walked through the little hallway, past the bedroom and bathroom into the living room cum kitchen. </span>
  
</p><p><span>“Is that Davey?” Jack immediately sat up bleary-eyed.</span> <br/><span>“Hi, Jackie,” David smiled as he set the things on the kitchen counter. “How was she?” </span></p><p><span>Jack waited for David to sit next to him before dramatically flopping over his knees. “It was exhausting. I can’t believe people actually do this voluntarily.”</span> <br/><span>“All that cuteness comes with a price.”</span> <br/><span>“’S a very big price then.”  </span></p><p>
  <span>Spot watched them from behind the kitchen counter. The way Jack had draped himself over David and snuggled into his side, the way David was running his hands through Jack’s hair, and the way the two of them looked at each other... Spot was certain they were more than friends. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>So, this is what Jack had to give up for the Promise. He almost felt bad for him, till he remembered he was giving up much more. Still, he couldn’t help but admit to himself that they looked happy. </span>
  <span>It</span>
  <span> kind of made Spot want something like that too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ew</span>
  <span>. Emotions. Disgusting. Spot shoved those feelings down. He was a demon; he didn’t need anybody else. He straightened up and cleared his throat. “So, uh, David. What's for breakfast?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Burritos. And there’s coffee. I got you black, is that okay Spot?”</span>
  <br/>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next hour was spent silently eating and sipping and cooing over the baby. Once she fell asleep again, David took Jack to get everything they needed. </span>
  
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Things are looking good, gents,” Hannah said as she inspected the house. Their court-mandated social worker, tasked with visiting them to make sure everything was running smoothly, was checking things off a clipboard as she walked around. “Spotradamus, will you be starting work tomorrow?” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes ma’am. Isabelle likes Jack more so it made more sense for me to work first,” Spot said. He didn’t really care that the baby wasn’t that fond of him. Like, they were civil, but she seemed more comfortable with Jack. Probably because he took the skin-to-skin contact that their doctor suggested way more seriously than Spot did. It was like Jack was looking for an excuse to walk around shirtless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Good, good. Mr. Kelly, you will be staying home with the baby?”</span>
  <br/>
  <span>“For as long as possible, or till we can hire a nanny,” Jack answered.</span>
</p><p><span>“Alright, everything seems to be in order. Isabelle looks healthy too. When was her last doctor’s appointment?”</span><br/><span>“Couple of days ago,” Jack said, checking the calendar. “Dr. Jacobs warned us that we’s gonna need more clothes and toys for her cause she’s gonna keep growing.”</span><br/><span>“Yes, children tend to do that.”</span><br/><span>“What I’m gettin' at is-”</span><br/><span>“Mr. Kelly, you’ve already received the carefully calculated stipulated amount. You will not be receiving more than this.”</span> <br/><span>“Dammit. Worth a try, eh?”</span> <br/><span>“No. Good day, beings,” and with that, Hannah sailed out of the apartment. </span></p><p>
  <span>Jack sighed and plopped on the couch, gazing at the crib. Isabelle was fast asleep, gearing up to wake up in an hour or two. Spot sat at the opposite end of the room and tapped his foot. In the month since they’d started, Jack and Isabelle had bonded more than Jack and Spot had. </span>
  <span>Obviously</span>
  <span> they had to coordinate and get along but they never really made a lot of conversation. Most of it was domestic - “We need groceries” “Did you change her?” “Eggs in the fridge” - but nothing of substance. It was evident they didn’t view each other as friends. Yet. Was that word even necessary? It felt like it would never happen.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>David was over a lot too. NYU was a two-minute walk from their apartment so he came over whenever free to just spend time with Jack. Spot would wander into the living room in the morning to find Jack listening to David read over an assignment or David watching Jack as he played with Isabelle. They were so painfully in love it made Spot a little sick. He never said anything though, because David often brought over food for them so that they were spared of Jack’s less-than-average cooking (it mostly involved Kraft and coffee), and also, what could he say? He chalked up the bitterness he was feeling to his usual state of being and forced himself to deal with it</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bitterness also spilled over into his relationship with Isabelle. Jack had started fondly calling her Izzy, for he actually did start to like her, but Spot wasn’t quite there yet. Thanks to his lack of need for sleep, he stayed awake at night to feed and change her whenever needed. Their doctor had told them to keep those changings and feedings as lowkey as possible, which Spot was fine with. He looked at her as a job he didn’t like, and it felt like that wouldn’t be changing any time soon. He spent his nights watching Law and Order on Jack’s Netflix (which David paid for), in low lighting, with bottles and diapers on hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the time came for one of them to actually earn an income, sending Spot out into the world made the most sense. The first of the month had come and gone and there was barely any court money left after paying the rent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spot objected to having a job at first. “I don’t know anything about humans,” he argued. “I hate humans. They’re the worst.”</span>
  <br/>
  <span>“I know, Spot,” Jack said patiently. “But we need this. You just need to go out there and find a way to coexist with them without letting them know you’re a demon. Or killing them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Humans were not aware of the supernatural. </span>
  <span>Of course,</span>
  <span> there were talks and theories and ‘sightings’ but their confirmed presence was only made aware to a few, and only if they wanted to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack and Spot had sat and made a list of everything a demon with no </span>
  <span>specialisation</span>
  <span> whatsoever could do. As expected, there wasn’t much. Jack said he could literally charm someone into hiring him and concocted a little potion for Spot to use if necessary. Spot took the bottle without saying anything. He wasn’t looking forward to this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a couple of weeks of job interviews, ranging from busboy to crossing guard, he finally landed a job at a gym in Brooklyn. “How the hell did you manage that?” Jack asked as he burped Isabelle. “</span>
  <span>Dontcha</span>
  <span>  need to have certifications and stuff?”</span>
  <br/>
  <span>Spot shrugged. “The guy interviewin' me asked if I could keep people in line and make sure the equipment was clean. 'S basically what I did Below. They didn’t really seem to care about certification an' such.” He paused. “Also, I used the potion.”</span>
  <br/>
  <span>“I’s glad I helped you get such an awful soundin' job.”</span>
  <br/>
  <span>“Pay's </span>
  <span>twenty-two</span>
  <span> dollars an hour.”</span>
  <br/>
  <span>“But it’s an awful you can bear. Whup, she burped. Grab the cloth.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“I brought you bagels. For good luck,” David said as he placed a small paper bag on the counter. Spot was snarfing down cereal when David, who apparently had a key now, entered the apartment.</span>
  
</p><p><span>Spot stared at him, a little bit suspicious. “Thanks, David. ‘Preciate it.”</span> <br/><span>He nodded and gave a small smile. “Go get </span><span>em</span><span>, Spot.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Spot left the apartment and headed to the subway. It took him around thirty minutes to get there. He had been on the subway once before, a long time ago. He loved how noisy and crowded it usually was; it reminded him of home. He hopped off at Prospect Park and found the place he’d be working at. The gym, very simply called </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bench Press</span>
  </em>
  <span>, was nestled between a vegan café and what seemed to be a dance studio. </span>
  
</p><p><span>“Welcome to Bench Press, how may I help you?” A tall man in round spectacles greeted Spot at the front desk.</span> <br/><span>“I work here. The name’s... Sean.” Not something he wanted, but Jack had insisted he go by an alias. (“</span><em><span>Because! Spot is </span></em><em><span>somethin</span></em><em><span>’ you’d name a dog! No one’s </span></em><em><span>gonna</span></em><em><span> take you seriously. Why would you pick a last name but not change Spot? It makes no sense!”)</span></em></p><p><span>The man cocked his head. “Are you not sure of your name?”</span> <br/><span>Spot gritted his teeth. “It’s Sean. Sean Conlon.”</span> <br/><span>“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Sean. I’m Spencer, I’m the diet specialist and receptionist,” he beamed and stuck his hand out. Spot gingerly shook it. “Great, how do I start?”</span></p><p>
  <span>Spot was being shown to his locker when a couple of loud guys showed up. They entered the changing room as Spot was putting his stuff away.</span>
  
</p><p><span>“Ah, Conlon! I’m Oscar Delancey, I interviewed you the other day. This is my brother, </span><span>Morris.</span><span> Are you ready for your first day?” The taller one asked, leaning against a locker. Morris, the seemingly younger one, disappeared into the back somewhere.</span> <br/><span>“Sure.”</span> <br/><span>“Cool, cool. Remember,” Oscar lowered his voice as he said it, “you can’t abuse them but we do encourage... vocal motivation.”</span> <br/><span>Spot smiled and nodded. Spencer gagged and went back to the front desk.</span></p><p>
  <span>At around 5 PM, he clocked out feeling great. It was a very rewarding job. He got to yell at a bunch of humans under the guise of “pushing them to the max” and “motivating them” and some other bull. Plus, they had a punching bag that he beat the shit out of. It was very fulfilling for him. He stepped outside, feeling a new sense of purpose, and promptly slammed into someone. He fell to the ground, grazing his elbows on the sidewalk.</span>
  
</p><p><span>“Ow!” He said, rubbing his chest where the other person’s elbow had jabbed into him. “Watch where you’re going.”</span> <br/><span>“Jesus, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”</span> <br/><span>Spot looked up to see bright blue eyes staring into his own. He blinked a couple of times and took the rest of him in. He was undoubtedly the most attractive person Spot had seen on all of his time in the Middle.</span></p><p><span>“Uh,” Spot’s brain short-circuited for a second. “Yeah. I'm fine.”</span> <br/><span>The blonde took a step closer and examined his arm. “You have a graze. You're bleeding. Here,” he rummaged through his duffel bag and pulled out a tee. “This will keep you not-leaky till you get home.”</span></p><p>
  <span>"What..." He started wrapping the cloth around Spot’s arm. Spot was stunned silent. Who was this pretty boy bandaging him up with his clothes?</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“There,” the boy said. “All better.” He zipped up his bag and jogged into the dance studio next door, not waiting for Spot to respond.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He must’ve stood there for another minute, still trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. He bumped into boy. Boy played doctor. Boy disappeared. He turned on his heel and walked to the station, the image of the blonde not leaving his mind.</span>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>no, law and order is not on netflix.<br/>side note: i'm learning so much about babies its wild</p><p>tumblr: newsies-of-new-yawk</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>spot opens up (sorta) to jack and davey &amp; is properly introduced to race.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Spot reached home, still in a daze. He had been stroking the cloth around his arm the whole subway ride back. He didn’t even know if that whole interaction was something that always happened. Was he overthinking it? </p><p>Jack was supervising Isabelle’s tummy time when he walked into their apartment. “Demon! How was work?” <br/>Spot’s brow was still furrowed as he dropped his keys in a bowl fashioned out of mac and cheese box. They were still pretty broke, so Jack was doing the best he could with what they had around the house in regards to furniture. </p><p>“Huh? It was great. Got my month’s advance.” <br/>“You sure sound happy about it,” Jack said sarcastically. He noticed Spot’s latest addition. “What happened to your arm?” <br/>“Oh, some dude accidentally pushed me over.” <br/>Jack narrowed his eyes. “And... bandaged you up? With a rag?” <br/>“It’s a t-shirt I think,” Spot replied, feeling his face heat up a little. </p><p>“Huh,” Jack picked Isabelle up. He didn’t say anything as he put her back in the crib, but Spot could see a glint of curiosity in his eye. Assuming the conversation was over, Spot went into the bathroom to change. </p><p>After locking the door, he carefully unwrapped the t-shirt and spread it open. It was soft, white muscle tee, stretched out from years of use. Cursive writing eloquently spelled out <em> Dance Mom </em>in glittery pink on the chest and was peeling off in some places. He threw it in the washing heap and stepped under the shower. </p><p>He came out and cracked open a beer, getting ready to settle in for a nice, quiet evening. </p><p>“Was he cute?” <br/>Spot startled at the sudden question. “What’s that gotta do with anything?” <br/>“Just askin'.” Spot narrowed his eyes but didn’t answer. Jack stayed silent for a couple more seconds before speaking up, “Did he think you were cute?” <br/>Spot put his beer down. “Again, that seems irrelevant, Kelly,” he snapped. </p><p>Jack looked him up and down as if he was analyzing him. “You don’ trust us, do you? Me an' Davey.” <br/>Spot threw his hands up in exasperation. “What’s <em>that </em>gotta do with anything?” </p><p>“Jus' answer the question.” <br/>“Big whup, Kelly. What gave it away?” <br/>He sighed. “Look Spot, we’re tryin' to be your friends, okay? And we want to. But it don't seem like you feel the same.” <br/>Spot shifted in his seat. “I ain’t used to having friends of your... kind.” <br/>“What? Mortal?” <br/>“No. Gay.” <br/>“Hilarious, Spot.”</p><p>“You know what I mean, wizard. A month don’t change nothin’. Middle dwellers ain’t what I'm used to.” <br/>Jack tilted his head sympathetically. “We’re all you got, Spot.” He was right. Spot's friends from Below hadn’t come to visit or even check up on him yet. It was adding to his ever-growing bitterness. “Just talk to us.” </p><p>Spot weighed his options. He either befriends his roommate and his nice boyfriend or lives even more bitterly than before. “Fine. You gotta promise to not be a dick though.” </p><p>“Hello, Kelly-Conlons,” David sailed into the room holding a plastic bag. “I brought Chinese.” <br/>“Davey! Just in time, Spot was just gonna tell us about the cute guy who saved his life today,” Jack said as he got up to relieve his boyfriend of the bag. <br/>“Woah, Spot Conlon needed saving? I gotta hear this,” David said as he sat down. “That is, if you don’t mind. I can always come back later if you don’t want-” <br/>Spot waved dismissively. “Stay, Jacobs. 'S okay.” </p><p>Jack took a seat next to David and looked eagerly at Spot. “Spit it out.” </p><hr/><p>“...And then he just walked away. Do humans do this? Is this normal? 'S not, right?”<br/>David shook his head in disbelief. “Spot... He likes you. Well, at least the look of you. He literally gave you an excuse for you to see him again.” <br/>“You think so?” <br/>“Definitely. It's a classic technique,” David replied. Jack nodded in agreement. “Can we see the tee?” </p><p>Spot was back a couple of seconds later with the cloth. It was still a little stained with his blood, although the actual wound had stopped bleeding now. </p><p>David stifled a laugh as they looked it over. “At least we know he’s definitely... you know...” He held up his hand and let it fall limp at the wrist, earning a giggle from Jack. </p><p>“So, what do I do?” Spot asked. <br/>“Depends. Do you like him?” <br/>“How should I know? I don’t do feelings.” <br/>Jack laughed as he folded the tee. “Somethin' tells me you will soon.” <br/>“What’s that s’posed to mean?” Spot asked, mildly annoyed. <br/>“Can’t demons, like, transition into humans if they have enough exposure?” <br/>“Make no mistake, Kelly,” Spot gritted his teeth. “I may look human but I ain’t ever gonna be one.” <br/>“Sure, Spot.” </p><p>After David left, Jack handed Isabelle over to Spot and went to paint in a corner of the living room. This was something that Jack apparently liked to do but didn’t have the time for in the day. Once the baby’s routine was settled, he was able to carve out time for himself and his canvases. </p><p>Spot leaned over the crib and watched as Isabelle made baby noises at him. “You gotta talk to her,” Jack called from the other end of the room. <br/>“What?” <br/>“Remember what Sarah said? You gotta let her ‘talk’ using her coos, gurgles, and smiles, and talk back to her using words, sounds, and your face," Jack recited. "Soon she’ll learn to imitate you. It’s great for her development or something.” </p><p>Doctor Sarah Jacobs. David's older sister also, much like her brother, knew her way around babies. She was a pediatrician, and after David had explained the whole situation to her, was more than happy to offer her services at a lower rate.  </p><p>Spot’s face flushed pink. “You mean I have to blabber at her? I'm not doing that. No way.” <br/>“C’mon, it’s to help her! Purely scientific.” <br/>“Naw, you’re fuckin’ with me, Kelly.” <br/>“Am not! I'm serious, just make sounds at her. It's easy, see,” Jack walked over to demonstrate. Isabelle gurgled happily when she saw him. Jack gurgled back, sticking his tongue out and grinning. This went back and forth for a few more seconds till Jack was fully laughing. “See! It's easy.” </p><p>Spot shook his head. “Nope.” <br/>“Ugh, fine. Jus' move her limbs around a bit. Gently. Don't rip her legs off.” </p><p>Spot rolled his eyes and picked the kid up. He placed her on her playmat and caught hold of her hands, making them clap and moving her legs as if she was cycling. This was his life now. </p><p>“Y’know it works better if you talk to her.” <br/>“Shut up.” </p><hr/><p>The next day, Spot showed up at his gym, the now clean tee folded and stuffed neatly into a corner of his bag. He peered into the next building. It was closed and showed no sign of opening up soon. He huffed and pushed the gym’s door open. </p><p>“Hey, uh, Specs-” <br/>“Spencer.” <br/>“Close enough. You know anything about the dance studio next door?” </p><p>“Denton’s Dance Academy? Not much. They've been around longer than the gym has. I think they open up for classes after lunchtime.” <br/>“Cool, thanks.” </p><p>It felt like the day was never going to end. Every time Spot checked the clock only twenty minutes had passed. Soon enough, it was 5 o'clock, and Spot hurriedly packed his things and bolted out the door.  </p><p>He stood outside the entrance to Denton’s Dance Academy, not knowing what to do next. Should he just waltz in and ask to see a lineup of all their cute boys? Or wait until – or if at all – the boy showed up again? </p><p>He glanced in the window, trying to see if he could pick Blondie out. (He’d dubbed him Blondie in his head. It made the most sense.) There were lots of people milling around. Parents and their little kids decked out in leotards and tutus made way for older looking children who held onto ballet flats and stockings. Looked like a class was over. Spot debated the decision for a few more seconds, before deciding <em> fuck it,  </em>and pushed the door in.  </p><p>It was a reasonably large studio. Children littered the floor, stretching on the floor and at the bar near the mirrors. Spot must’ve looked shady because a young man – probably the same age as Blondie – approached him cautiously. </p><p>“Hi, may I help you?” He asked. <br/>“Oh, uh...” Spot tried to think of the least suspicious way to phrase it. “I’m... lookin' for someone.” <br/>“Oh?” The man raised an eyebrow. </p><p>“Yeah...” Spot let his word hang awkwardly in the air. The other man didn’t seem convinced. </p><p>“I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, man.” <br/>“No, wait-” He spotted Blondie appear from a group of children. “Ah, found him. Blondie!” He waved his hand, hoping he would see him. </p><p>“You don’t even know his name!” The guy protested. <br/>“Shut up before I castrate you.” <br/>“Excuse me?” </p><p>By this time Blondie had noticed him. He looked amused. Pulling his dance bag over his shoulder, he wove his way through the throng of children to him. </p><p>“Race, you know this guy?”<br/>“It’s chill, Tommy Boy. Go do your thing.” </p><p>Tommy Boy looked wary but left anyway to wrangle the hoard of preteens in the hall.</p><p><em> So, </em><em>his name is Race, </em>Spot thought. <em>Wait till Kelly gets a load of that.</em></p><p>Raceturned to him. “Hi. What brings you here?”<br/>“Hi.” He fished the tee out of his bag and shoved it into Race’s hands. “Thanks... for that. You didn’t need to.”</p><p>“Oh shit, I completely forgot I did that. I was wondering where I put it. How's your arm?” </p><p>So he wasn’t doing it to see Spot again. He’s just a nice person who wanted to help. </p><p>“It's fine,” Spot replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. They stood there silently. Spot didn’t know what to do next. A small part of him felt let down that it wasn't like what David had said, but he ignored it. Race was looking at him curiously, like he was solving a puzzle. Spot decided the best thing to do was leave. Before he could open his mouth to say bye, Race opened his. </p><p>“What’s your name?” <br/>“What?” <br/>“Your name. D'ya have one?” </p><p>“Oh, uh...” <em> For the love of the Above, don’t tell him your name is Spot,  </em> Jack’s voice rang in his mind<em>.  </em>“It’s Spot. Spot Conlon.” This guy called himself Race; he didn’t have any rights. </p><p>“Spot?” <br/>“Problem?” Spot immediately bit his tongue. He wasn’t supposed to be trying to intimidate this guy. </p><p>Surprisingly, Race just grinned. “Nah, it’s intriguing. I’m Anthony. Higgins.” <br/>“I thought you was Race?” <br/>“Both. You can call me whatever you want.” </p><p>Spot mulled it over. “Race seems fine.”<br/>“Is your name actually Spot?” </p><p><em> Don’t let them know you’re a demon, </em>his Jack voice came back. He mentally squished it and said, “Nah, it’s... Sean.” </p><p>Race laughed. Oddly enough, Spot wasn’t feeling the usual distaste he reserved for humans; there was something different about this one.</p><p>Didn't mean he wanted to explore it. </p><p>“Okay. I'm gonna go.” <br/>Race blinked once. “Take care, Spot.” </p><p>Spot just nodded and walked out. He had barely made it a block when the heard the studio door crash open from behind him. </p><p>“Spot!” </p><p>He turned around to see Race standing at the entrance. He waited for him to say something. </p><p>“Have a good day.”</p><p>Spot looked a little confused. “You too, Race.” </p><p>Race beamed, seemingly satisfied, and went back inside. </p><p>Was Spot confused by the encounter? Yes. Did he care? Weirdly, not so much.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>shoot me a message on tumblr: newsies-of-new-yawk</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>race and spot have a night out</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a week before Spot saw Race again. Not that he was looking forward to seeing him or anything – it was just the most interaction he’d had with someone who wasn’t Jack or David, and it was slightly comforting that even if he didn’t want to, he was capable of talking to people if the need arose. </p><p>Jack and David had made him tell them everything, and though Spot was slightly put off by the fact that they were wrong, there was still some pleasure to be taken from telling them that they were. </p><p>“I’m sorry, Spot. It did sound like he was interested in you,” David said apologetically. <br/>Spot just shrugged. “Meh.” </p><p>They dropped the subject after that.  </p><hr/><p>“See ya tomorrow, Sean,” Gary patted Spot’s shoulder as he left the changing room. Spot hummed in response. He was getting along well with his clients. They were the kind of people who liked Spot’s tough-love approach to fitness and also trusted him a hundred percent. Spot found out he was intuitively good at it, somehow. It seemed like centuries of torture had paid off. </p><p>He stepped out after his shift and checked his phone. There were three unread messages from Jack. </p><p><b> <em> 4:03 </em> </b> <em>  just saw that you left your keys at home dummy </em> </p><p><b> <em> 4:04 </em> </b> <em>  D and I are going shopping for  </em> <em> izz </em> <em> . will be home by 6 </em> </p><p><b> <em> 4:04 </em> </b>  <em> i'll </em> <em>  call you when we’re done. unless you  </em> <em> wanna </em> <em>  wait outside the door till we come back </em> </p><p>Spot slid the phone back in his pocket wordlessly. Half an hour wasn’t much. He'd find a way to spend it. His sessions for the day had left him more sore than usual, so he wasn’t looking to wander the city. The café next door seemed empty, so he decided to while away time in there. </p><p>A little bell jingled as he stepped inside. He chose a seat near the window, hoping to play a little game called <em> judging mortals for their choices in pretty much everything </em>. Setting his gym bag on the floor, he picked up a menu and began flipping through it. </p><p>Vegan and expensive. His face twisted into a scowl. He was hoping for a big plate of hot wings or something substantial. As he read, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Was he in danger? What was happening? </p><p>“Welcome to Flower Drum, can I take your order?” </p><p>Oh. Just a server. Spot didn’t like servers. Always thought they were too nosey and annoying. </p><p>“Just a black coffee is fine,” Spot said, not bothering to look up at the person. <br/>“Spot?” </p><p>Spot recognized the voice. “Race? What’re you doing here?” <br/>“I work here.” <br/>Spot blinked. “Oh, okay. I assumed you worked at the dance studio.” <br/>“There too. One black coffee then?” <br/><em>Two jobs, huh. </em>“Yeah.” <br/>“On it.” </p><p>Race was back with his coffee in a few minutes. “You mind if I sit with you? Café's empty and my shift is done soon anyway.” <br/>Spot looked up from his phone. He thought he’d be annoyed that his alone time was interrupted but, as with anything Race related, he didn’t mind. “Uh, sure.” </p><p>Race put his coffee in front of him and slid into the chair opposite. Spot watched over his coffee as he pulled a granola bar out of his pocket and unwrapped it. </p><p>“Long day at the gym?” Race asked. <br/>Spot shrugged. “Same as usual. How’d you know I work there?” <br/>“An educated guess.” </p><p>The table settled into silence as Spot turned his attention to the foot traffic outside. Just then, a crash and a loud groan of annoyance sounded from the back. “Anthony!” A voice called out from beyond the counter. “Where are you?” <br/>Race rolled his eyes. “That’s my boss. Gimme a second.” He turned and yelled back, “What do you want, Finch?” <br/>“I want you to help me clean up, dingbat. You work here.” <br/>“I’m with a customer.” <br/>“What do you mean- oh, Jesus. I'm sorry about him, sir. Anthony, stop bothering our paying customers.” Finch grimaced, pulling Race up by the elbow. </p><p>“Finch, this is my friend Spot.” <em>Friend?  </em>Spot felt... something. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. <br/>“Nice to meet you. I'm just going to steal him for a second. I thought all our customers left?” Spot heard Finch hiss at Race as he pushed him away. </p><p>After more clattering from the kitchen, Race was back with a bowl of nachos. “Leftovers. I usually take them home but I thought we could share.” <br/>Spot had finished his coffee by this time and was scrolling through Twitter. “Cool. Thanks.” </p><p>Race leaned back in his chair and idly played with the chips. He didn’t take his eyes off Spot. Spot knew this and could feel his face heat up. Why did it feel like everyone in his life was trying to analyze him?  </p><p>“Are you free now?” Race asked.<br/>Spot looked up from his phone. “I think so.” <br/>“Cool. Wanna hang out? I'm avoiding assignments and my friends.” <br/><em>This is new. </em>“Okay.” <br/>Race grinned. “Neat. Got anywhere you wanna go?” <br/>“I... don’t really know the city.” <br/>“New in town?” <br/>“Mhm.” <br/>“That’s fine, I’ll take you exploring.” <br/>“Alright.” Spot shoved a chip in his mouth before gagging. “This is disgusting.” <br/>“I know,” Race said wistfully. </p><p>Suddenly, Spot’s phone blared to life. The caller ID read Jackass<em>. </em>He bit his tongue; he'd briefly forgotten about his responsibilities.  </p><p>“Ah, shit. One sec.” Spot left the table and answered the call. “What?” <br/>Jack sounded like he was still outside. “We’re on our way back. If you leave now we should end up home at the same time.” <br/>Spot glanced at Race, who was now trying to catch the chips in his mouth. “Uh, I'll be coming back late. Save some dinner for me.” <br/>“What? Where are you going?” </p><p>“Nunna your business.” </p><p>“Spot, c’mon,” Jack whined. “Trust, remember?” <br/>Spot gagged. He didn't want Jack to get all mushy on him now. “Ugh, fine. Race is taking me explorin'” <br/>“What? Race from the dance studio? Race who saved your life? That Race?” <br/>“You know another Race?” <br/>“Fair enough,” Jack conceded. “Shit, this is so exciting. Davey! Spot’s got a date with Dance Mom Race!” <br/>Spot squeezed the bridge of his nose as he heard excited shuffling on the other end of the line. “Spot!” Davey’s voice chimed in. “That’s so great!” <br/>“It’s not a date,” Spot whispered, feeling himself go red. Goddamn morons. </p><p>“Whatever ya say, little demon,” Jack’s voice came back. “Have fun. But not too much. And be home by 10. I need to open the door for you.” <br/>Spot cut the call. </p><p>“You ready to go?” Race asked, slinging his backpack over his skinny frame. The nacho bowl was empty, which meant that they were all either in Race’s belly or on the floor. <br/>“Yep.” He pocketed his phone and shouldered his gym bag. </p><p>“Here’s dinner, Race.” Finch pushed a bag over the counter. “Swap shifts with Romeo if you can’t make it next time.” <br/>“Got it chief. Love ya, see ya.” <br/>“Bye, Race.” </p><p>They left the café and strolled towards Prospect Park. “You gotta love the park. There's always so much to do.” </p><p>Spot didn’t say anything. He was still trying to make sense of everything. Was this a date? It wasn’t, right? It didn’t seem like Race was interested in him like that. He glanced at Race, who was humming and bobbing down the road. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. </p><p>“So...” Spot started. “Where are we going?” <br/>Race stopped humming. “You’ll see when we get there.” </p><p>Spot shrugged and followed him. He didn’t mind following semi-strangers to unknown locations. If things got out of hand, he always had his glowy eyes and flamethrower hands to depend on. </p><p>Race led him into the park and beyond a dense shrubbery on the east side. After a minute, they reached a wall a foot taller than Spot. Race expertly scaled it and balanced himself at the top. “Need help?” </p><p>“No,” Spot scoffed. He found a broken slab on the side and used it to climb up. He jumped down and found himself in a large space. Spot took in his surroundings. Large tracks soared over his head, rusted. Signs that evidently once lit up every night hung low and dim. Turned over bumper cars, a broken-down carousel, animatronics still in position, with no life behind the eyes... </p><p>“Welcome to FunLand,” Race said, hopping down from the wall. “Built in 1996, abandoned in 2007 after multiple paranormal sightings. Werewolves, so they say.” </p><p>Spot gave a small smile. “Is that so?” <br/>“Yeah. Anyway, I don’t think that’s true, and the city hasn’t done anything about the park yet so it’s ours if we tread carefully. C'mon,” and with that, he gracefully bounded into the ruins. Spot followed, thoroughly enjoying how spooky it all was. </p><p>They climbed over everything, pausing to look for security guards every now and then. At one point, Race dug through his bag and tossed Spot a can of spray paint. </p><p>“Paint me a picture, Conlon,” Race said as he settled into a rollercoaster car. </p><p>Spot looked at the can of red in his hand. “I can’t draw.” </p><p>“Neither can I.” Race shot up and grabbed the can from him. “But look,” he said as he concentrated the spray on the wall of a food stall. “It’s a spot,” he beamed. </p><p>Spot smiled, genuinely smiled, for the first time since he moved. “It’s great.” He was beginning to understand that he enjoyed being around Race. </p><p>“Hey!” They turned to see flashlights heading towards them. “No trespassing!” <br/>Race tossed the can to Spot and grabbed his bags. “Run!” </p><p>They broke into a sprint. Spot could see why Race had gotten his nickname – he was off like a bullet. Spot could barely keep up. They clambered over the wall and ran back the way they entered. </p><hr/><p>“Where to now?” Spot asked. They had caught their breath on a park bench and were now back on the street. </p><p>Race mused. “Anywhere but home. I thought we could hang out at the skate park but honestly, I’m kinda in the mood for ice cream.” <br/>“Huh,” Spot said, a sudden realization dawning on him. “I’ve never had ice cream before.” </p><p>Race stopped. “Never?” </p><hr/><p> Soon, Spot found himself in a quaint little shop holding a cup of mint chocolate chip. Race had made him sample everything in the shop, much to the server’s annoyance. Race had gotten himself a cone of cookies and cream and was very elegantly trying to deepthroat it. </p><p>Spot watched him, not knowing what to do next. He figured Race would probably ask him something. </p><p>“How come you moved?”<em> There it was.</em> <br/>Spot stirred the melting ice cream around. “Came here for a job.” <br/>Race cocked his head quizzically. “The gym job? Where were you before that didn’t have gyms?” <br/>He shifted in his seat. “Oh, way out in the middle of nowhere. You wouldn’t know it.” He wasn't sure how Race felt about the supernatural. He had said he didn’t think the werewolf sightings were true, so maybe it would be better to not mention it. Even if he didn’t mind the supernatural, humans still didn’t take kindly to demons. </p><p>He decided to change the subject. “Where were you last week?” <br/>Race bit off a chunk of his cone. “I had midterms.” <br/><em>Ah, an opening.</em> “Whatcha studying?” <br/>“Marine biology. I wanna work with penguins.” </p><p>The answer surprised Spot. He thought he’d go in for dancing or something. Then again, how well did Spot even know Race really?</p><p>“What d’ya think of the ice cream?” Race asked. Spot looked down at the liquid in his bowl. <br/>“I don’t like that it melts.” <br/>Race chuckled. “None of us do. I can’t believe you haven’t had ice cream at all before.” <br/>Spot thought back to the lava pits and ever-present gloom of the Below. “Me neither.” </p><p>Race shoved the rest of the cone in his mouth. “Wanna get outta here?” </p><p>Spot checked his phone and mentally groaned. It was 9:30, and he needed to head back soon. </p><p>“Sorry, Race. My roommate’s gotta let me in and he’s a total pain in the ass after 10.” <br/>Race’s grin faltered ever so slightly. “That’s okay. I guess I'll see you around then.” </p><p>Spot nodded. “See you.” </p><hr/><p>“Look who finally decided to show up,” Jack said as he opened the door. </p><p>Spot rolled his eyes. “10 minutes, Kelly. That's all I was late by.” <br/>“I kid, demon. How was the date?” </p><p>“It wasn’t a date,” Spot reiterated as he put his bag down and turned the TV on, “but I had fun.” </p><p>“Are you gonna tell me about it?” <br/>“No.” <br/>“Fine. Keep your secrets. I'll see you in the morning.” <br/>“Night.” </p><p>Spot flipped to Netflix and put Law and Order on. Isabelle was asleep in her corner, unbothered by his presence. He settled in for another one of his standard nights, but this one felt different. After all, it wasn’t every day he got to spend it with a cute boy. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>much like with everything i write, i allow myself some creative freedom, so no, there is no "FunLand" and there never was.<br/>also i've never explicitly said it before but i rlly thrive on and appreciate comments so please validate me, and let me know if you'd like to see more of jack and davey's relationship or more of the parenting itself or anything else and i'll see if i can work it in</p><p>thank u for reading!! you can also talk to me on my tumblr newsies-of-new-yawk :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>some light is shed.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>some backstory for y'all</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em><span>“Hey, Jack?” Katherine asked.</span></em> <br/><em><span>“</span></em><em><span>Mhm</span></em><em><span>?” </span></em> <br/><em><span>“You’ll do anything for me, right?”</span></em> <br/><em><span>Jack laughed and pressed a kiss on top of her head. They were curled up on Katherine’s bed together, watching The Princess Bride. “Anything in the world, Kath.”</span></em> <br/><em><span>“And by anything, you mean anything?”</span></em> <br/><em><span>“Yeah, ‘course. Why's you </span></em><em><span>askin</span></em><em><span>’?”</span></em> <br/><em><span>“Well...” Katherine said, hoisting herself up on her elbows, “I was wondering if we could make one of those Soul Promises you told me about.”</span></em> <br/><em><span>Jack shifted his positioning to straighten his back. “Um... why?”</span></em> <br/><em><span>“</span></em><em><span>’Cause</span></em><em><span> you love me.”</span></em> <br/><em><span>“You already know I love you, Kath, you don’t need a Soul Promise for proof.”</span></em> <br/><em><span>“Yeah, but we can still make one anyway.”</span></em></p><p><em><span>“Uh, I </span></em><em><span>dunno</span></em><em><span>. Soul Promises are pretty serious things. You know that it binds both our souls to the oath and needs to be kept for all eternity, and it can’t be undone, and if we break </span></em><em><span>it</span></em><em><span> we’re doomed for life? " He recited. "I don’t think it’s worth it.”</span></em> <br/><em><span>Katherine gasped. “Are you saying I’m not worth it?”</span></em> <br/><em><span>“What, no! You know that’s not what I-”</span></em> <br/><em><span>“Aw, c’mon Jack, for me?” She pouted.</span></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jack hesitated for a second. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ah, what the hell, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he thought. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I trust her. It'll be fine.</span>
  
</p><p><em><span>He smiled. “Alright. Anything for you, right?”</span></em> <br/><em><span>Katherine squealed. “Cool! How do we do it?”</span></em> <br/><em><span>“It’s a blood oath, so there’s very specific wording we have to use... I bet the library will have it.”</span></em> <br/><em><span>“Let’s go then!”</span></em> <br/><em><span>“What, right now?”</span></em> <br/><em><span>“No day like today, Kelly.”</span></em> <br/><em><span>Jack grinned. How could he say no to her?</span></em></p><hr/><p>
  <span>Jack woke up with a start. Ever since he moved in, that same dream came to </span>
  <span>him once</span>
  <span> a week without fail, almost like a blaring reminder of the day of his biggest fuck up.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He turned over in his bed, trying to </span>
  <span>will</span>
  <span> himself to go back to sleep. He tossed for a bit before deciding to get himself some milk.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled his blanket over his shoulders and wandered into the kitchen. Spot was on the couch, watching TV as per the usual with an eye on Izzy in the corner. He clocked Jack shuffling into the kitchen and checked his phone. </span>
  
</p><p><span>“It’s 3 AM, Kelly. Somethin' wrong with your internal clock?”</span> <br/><span>“I had a...” Jack paused, trying to think of the most fitting word. “Nightmare.”</span> <br/><span>Spot looked like he was considering caring before settling on, “Sucks to be you.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Spot went back to his show. Jack took a swig of milk straight from the carton and gagged. Putting it back, he turned to go back to his room but something stopped him. He didn’t think he could be alone at that point. He did a one-eighty and joined Spot on the couch.</span>
  
</p><p><span>He raised an eyebrow. “This is season fourteen.”</span> <br/><span>“Doesn’t matter.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Spot shrugged and continued the show. Jack watched, barely. He was still thinking about the dream.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>In all his life, he’d never met as electric of a lifeforce as Katherine. It was hard not to like her – she was bubbly and confident, and challenged Jack in more ways than one. Which was why it made sense Kath had him wrapped around his finger; of course he’d do anything for her.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>...Which led him to a question he hadn’t even considered before.</span>
  
</p><p><span>“Spot,” Jack turned to the demon. “Can I ask you something?”</span> <br/><span>He didn’t take his eyes off the screen. “Depends.”</span> <br/><span>“How did Kath rope you into a soul promise?”</span></p><p><span>Spot’s hand twitched over the remote. “I don’t </span><span>wanna</span><span> talk about it.”</span> <br/><span>Jack frowned. “It’s just me, Spot. I did the same stupid thing too.”</span> <br/><span>“I said no.”</span></p><p><span>Jack wasn’t backing down. “I just wanna know, Spot.”</span> <br/><span>Spot looked down at the inverted triangles on his wrist. Jack had the same one – a mark of the biggest mistake of their lives. “Fine.”</span></p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hotshot took a swig of a bottle as he staggered towards Spot, laughing. They were outside a seedy bar in lower Manhattan, off torturing duty for a bit. Hotshot had forced Spot to come out that night. “It’s our night out, let’s do something different,” he had said, and Spot reluctantly agreed.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You won’t fuckin’ believe how much better the vodka’s gotten since the last time we were here,” Hotshot said as he pulled out another bottle from seemingly nowhere and waved it in front of Spot’s face. He grinned and grabbed the bottle, downing it without a problem. “Tastes the exact same as two centuries ago.” He spun around and pointed, “Which is good. Change sucks. Change is </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>ba</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>-a-ad.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yessir,” Hotshot slurred. They had </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>pregamed</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> with absinthe shots Below because their demon forms were more resilient to... everything. That was one thing Spot didn’t like about his human form. Humans were so weak and pathetic, which made him weak and pathetic. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to be able to use even a fraction of his powers in the Middle but he didn't care.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Look how </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>flamey</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> my hands are,” Spot giggled, setting them on fire. Hotshot did too, and they both stood and watched the flames lick at their palms and fingers.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p><em><span>“I can turn mine purple,” Hotshot said as the fire continued to burn deep yellow.</span></em> <br/><em><span>“Liar.”</span></em> <br/><em><span>“No really, it works. I need more alcohol. ‘M </span></em><em><span>gonna</span></em><em><span> steal a bottle, be right back.”</span></em> <br/><em><span>“Come back </span></em><em><span>soooon</span></em><em><span>.”</span></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hotshot licked Spot’s cheek in response and stalked back inside. He wiped the saliva off his face and continued to stand around. The street was mostly empty, and the people milling around were either completely stoned, drunk, or both.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re not human,” a voice came from behind him. Spot jumped and nearly twisted his ankle. </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p><em><span>“Ow! No, no. I'm most definitely human. As human as they come,” he said unconvincingly, trying to find who he was defending himself to.</span></em> <br/><em><span>“No, you’re not. You're a hundred per cent not.” A woman appeared from the shadowed alleyway. As she stepped into the light, Spot knew he didn’t know her.</span></em> <br/><em><span>“I am! My name is Spot, I am a human person and you are a bitch,” he finished with finality.</span></em> <br/><em><span>She pushed her glasses up her face. “I don’t think you are.”</span></em> <br/><em><span>“I said I AM!” Spot’s eyes erupted in anger, and then instantly died down when he </span></em><em><span>realised</span></em><em><span> what he’d done. “You didn’t see that... I'm human...”</span></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Nope,” she said, winding her fist back. Before Spot could even comprehend, she knocked him to the floor. He groaned in pain as she grabbed his hands and dragged him to the alleyway. She produced a pair of handcuffs and secured him to the pipes on the walls.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p><em><span>“What? Why do you have handcuffs?” Spot’s head throbbed in pain. She was stronger than he expected.</span></em> <br/><em><span>“</span></em><em><span>Boyfriend knows what he likes,” she said as she took a thick book out of her handbag. </span></em><em><span>“You’re a demon, aren’t you?” she asked, flipping through it. “Yeah, you are. Good. This is good.”</span></em></p><p><em><span>“What the fuck do you want?” Spot groaned, his nose bleeding and stomach twisting. The absinthe was catching up to him.</span></em> <br/><em><span>“A favour,” she said.</span></em> <br/><em><span>“A favour?”</span></em> <br/><em><span>“More specifically, a promise.”</span></em></p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Hotshot had abandoned me to hook up with the bartender so he didn’t find me till much later,” Spot finished.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Jack sat in stunned silence. “Kath... </span>
  <span>Realized</span>
  <span> you weren’t human, and the first thing she did was coerce you into a promise?”</span>
  
</p><p><span>“Yeah...”</span> <br/><span>“That’s impressive.”</span></p><p>
  <span>“What's impressive is findin' out youse the kinky type.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So she fought you?” Jack said immediately. “An' won?” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Spot shifted uncomfortably. “If you can even call it fightin'. I was sloshed outta my ass. Anyway, that’s how it happened. I hate that woman.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Jack didn’t say anything.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Spot went back to watching the screen intently. Jack looked at him, his heart swelling with what he could only describe as a heavy sadness. He leaned against Spot’s chest, startling the demon.</span>
  
</p><p><span>“The fuck you doing?”</span> <br/><span>“</span><span>Shh</span><span>,” Jack said. “We need this.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Spot opened his mouth to argue but shut it again. Jack was very aware of Spot's breathing and his, just a second out of sync. if he had any other objections, he didn’t voice them. They just sat there until Jack drifted back to sleep.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>here's a filler chapter. more plot (?) is coming.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>pride. spot is introduced to race's friends. he learns more about them than he thought he would.<br/>also: genderbent Jojo. that is all.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ok there's a part in the middle where homophobic slurs are used and a gun makes an appearance; I'll mark it with asterisks in case you'd like to skip it and I'll put a summary of the scene in the endnotes. also a few f-bombs.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jack felt some sort of warmth on his face. He opened his eyes blearily to the sunshine cascading in from the windows. It took him a minute to realize that he had fallen asleep on the couch and that he’d half-cuddled with Spot, who was currently eating cereal at the kitchen. </p><p>“Mornin’, Spot.” <br/>“Mmf.” <br/>“Thanks for lettin’ me use your chest last night.” <br/>“We don’t talk about it.” </p><p>Jack nodded, pulling his blanket closer. He was definitely going to do it again. </p><p>“D’ya have to go to the gym today?” <br/>He rinsed his bowl. “Couple of hours. I’ll be back by lunch.” </p><p>“Okay. I think Davey an’ I are taking Izzy to the park for a bit,” Jack called as he headed into the bedroom. <br/>“Whatever,” Spot called back. </p><hr/><p>“I don’t have your number,” Race said, leaning over the counter. Spot had finished his gym shift and was keeping Race company in the otherwise empty café. </p><p>He raised an eyebrow. “You want my number?” <br/>Race shrugged. “We're friends. I bother all my friends over text a lot.” <br/>“Is this really a good idea then?” Spot grimaced. <br/>“Yep,” he said as he fished his phone out. “Here ya go.” </p><p>Spot took it and gingerly put his number in. At least he wouldn’t be bored up here. </p><p>“Welcome to the most interesting part of your life, Spot.” <br/>“Woohoo.” </p><hr/><p>Race began texting Spot pretty regularly, as promised. He dragged him out to many things Spot never would’ve gone to on his own: art galleries, pop-up shops, his students’ dance recitals... and that was all in two weeks. But Spot never complained. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he was enjoying himself, going out and spending time with this guy who had just inserted himself in his life. </p><p>That morning was Spot’s day off from work. The Delancey's were taking a weekend trip to Atlantic City so the gym was going to be closed for a bit. </p><p>It wasn’t like Spot had any hobbies to keep him busy: he rotated between work, Isabelle, and Race. And he didn’t mind it. He didn’t have hobbies Below either. </p><p>He had just settled in front of the TV with Isabelle on his lap when Jack and David entered the apartment after grocery shopping.  </p><p>“You noticed her nails are growin’?” Spot asked as he bounced her on his lap. “She’s scratched me thrice so far<br/>“Ah yeah, Sarah said that would happen. We got a  nail cutter  for her,” David said, unpacking diapers and formula.  <br/>“Her squishy head will also harden soon,” Jack piped in as he put milk in the fridge. </p><p>Spot looked at Isabelle, still lightly bouncing. “I got a bone to pick with squishy heads. Why can’t they come out fully formed?” he asked, but was cut off midsentence by his phone ringing. </p><p>“Hey, Race.” <br/>“Spot, you busy today?” <br/>Spot balanced the phone and shouldered the baby. “Nah. Day off.” <br/>“Excellent. My friends and I are going to pride and I was wondering if you’d like to come with.” </p><p>“Pride?” Spot asked, which caught Jack and David’s attention. <br/>“I figured you might not have had the chance to go to one, what with living out in the middle of nowhere. It’ll be fun.” </p><p>Spot was at a slight loss for words. He'd heard about pride parades before but he’d never been to one, for obvious reasons. Along with that, the only thing demons felt was anger. And lust. There wasn’t much to label. But in the moment, and with Race asking, Spot didn’t really think before answering. </p><p>“Uh, yeah, sure.” <br/>“Awesome. Meet me at mine at 11?” <br/>“Okay.” <br/>“I’ll text you the address. See ya.” </p><p>Spot turned his phone off to see the boyfriends watching him, both with very different expressions on their faces. </p><p>“What?” Spot asked. <br/>David tried hiding a grin but failed spectacularly. “Did Race just ask you to go to pride with him?” <br/>“Yeah... what of it?” <br/>“Nothing. I just think it’s really cute,”  </p><p>Spot rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Isabelle. He placed her in her crib as she happily gurgled at him. “Can one of you talk to her?” </p><p>“On it,” David said, leaving Jack to put the laundry detergent away. Spot dusted off his jeans and went to root around the kitchen. </p><p>Jack hummed lightly. “So-” <br/>“Don’t say a thing.” <br/>“Spot,” Jack whined, “you watched fuckin’ children’s ballet with him and you’re tellin’ me you still feel <em>nothing</em>?” <br/>“Yep.” </p><p>Jack huffed and went back to unpacking. “This is goin’ somewhere, demon.” <br/>“Whatever, wizard.” </p><hr/><p>Spot stood on the doorstep to Race’s building an hour later. He was wearing a bright green and blue Hawaiian print shirt which Jack had initially thrown a mini fit about but finally came to terms with. He pressed the buzzer and listened as it crackled to life. </p><p>“Yello,” a voice that didn’t sound like Race’s said. <br/>“Hi, it’s Sean.” <br/>“Who?” <br/>“Er, Spot. For Race?” <br/>“What? Oh, okay.” The building door opened and soon Spot found himself outside Race’s door. He hadn’t been to his apartment before – all their previous meetings happened outside Spot’s place or at a halfway point. He knew that Race had roommates but he hadn’t met them. Yet.  </p><p>The door swung open, revealing a suspicious-looking redhead. “So, you’re ‘Spot’ huh?” he said, leaning against the door. “Nice to finally meet the person who’s been stealing my best friend away.” </p><p>Spot blinked. “Uh...” </p><p>Before he could answer a skinny hand pushed the redhead away from the door. “Stop freaking him out. Heya, Spot,” Race said as he opened the door further. Spot looked him up and down. He was wearing a tie-dyed tank top with leather pants that clung to his legs. His blonde curls were shoved back with a red bandana and a pair of shades. “Come in. These are my roommates. This grouchy one is Albert,” he pointed to the redhead who scowled in response, “and Jojo’s just inside, taking much longer than she needs to,” he yelled the last part as a dull thump and some yelling sounded from further in.  </p><p>Their apartment was messy. Spot wasn’t sure if it was because they were getting ready for pride or if it was always like that. He was trying to figure out why there were soda cans glued to the ceiling when a door opened and a girl in a leather jacket stomped out. “You used up all the hair gel,” she complained as she threw a container at Race. </p><p>“Ow! It was Al, not me,” he said, rubbing his forearm. <br/>Albert scoffed. “Please, like I need hair gel.” </p><p>Jojo was about to throw a banana at him when she caught sight of Spot. “Well hello hello, new pretty boy alert. Can I have your name, sweetheart?” <br/>Spot raised an eyebrow. “It’s Sp-” <br/>“You can call him Spot,” Race cut in, glaring at the girl. “Behave, Jojo.” </p><p>She stuck his tongue out at him as she ran a hand down Spot’s arm. “I love your style.” <br/>“Thanks,” Spot said, slightly enjoying the touching but also hyperaware of Race staring her down. </p><p>Albert cleared his throat. “You can flirt later, Jo. Can we please <em>l</em><em>eave?” </em> </p><p>“Jesus, alright fussy,” Jojo rolled her eyes at him and turned to wink at Spot. “We’re gonna have fun today.” </p><p>Spot almost believed her. </p><hr/><p>Pride was... a lot. Spot didn’t really understand the need for it, and he tried asking about it too. </p><p>“It’s to express who we are, babe,” Jojo said, twirling with a big multicolored flag tied around her shoulders. “Years and years of hiding who we are being flushed down the drain.” </p><p>Spot couldn’t relate, but he just nodded and accepted that as an answer. </p><p>It was long. It took them three hours to even start marching, and by the time they finished, it was already late evening. They would’ve stayed for longer if Race hadn’t fallen face first and broken his nose.  </p><p>They sat on some chairs near a waffle cart, Race grumbling about something as Albert stuffed tissue paper up his nose. </p><p>“Literally all you needed to do was walk,” Albert sighed. “How did you fuck that up?” <br/>“Ih’s nah mah fauhh,” Race insisted, holding the tissue paper in place. <br/>“Shut up. Don't even try. Jo,” he turned to the girl who was fiddling with a straw. “I’m gonna order something. Can you, y’know, take care of him?” </p><p>Jojo nodded. “Aren’t you gonna take Spot too?” </p><p>Albert didn’t seem too happy with the idea. “Right. Fine. Come,” he beckoned Spot with a curt nod. </p><p>“Nah, I'm fine here,” Spot said, folding his arms. He didn’t appreciate being ordered around, and he could tell that Albert was trying to intimidate him. Two could play at that game. </p><p>“Spah yah shuh guh,” Race said as Jojo forced his head back again. Spot hesitated for a moment, eyes darting between Race and Albert, before begrudgingly giving in and joining Albert at the line. </p><p>They stood silently, a feeling of hostility in the air. Finally, Albert said: </p><p>“I don’t trust you.” <br/>Spot looked up, slightly intrigued. “Can’t wait to find out why.” </p><p>“He met you outside his dance studio a month ago and suddenly you guys are going everywhere together?” <br/>“I believe it’s called makin' friends.” </p><p>Albert shook his head. “He doesn't do friends, not like this. Usually, when Race does this it’s for hook-ups and flings. This is... new.” </p><p>Spot just shrugged, ignoring the little pang of hurt in his chest that he wasn’t the only one Race had found that way. “Okay. Whatever.”  </p><p>“No,” Albert said, “not whatever. That's my best friend you’re talking about. He's trying something different, for some reason.” He paused, making sure to look Spot in the eyes. “If you hurt him, I'll end you.” </p><p>Spot didn’t break the eye contact. Albert was a few inches taller than Spot but not that much beefier than him. He could easily take the ginger boy in a fight. </p><p>“Whatever you say, man.” </p><p>Albert’s eyes lingered on his for a second more before breaking away. “This is taking too long.” </p><p>“Guys guys guys,” Jojo ran up to them, dragging Race by the wrist. “Some idiots are causing trouble up the street and they’re headed here.” </p><p>“Ah, shit,” Albert hissed. “Dumbasses. The organizers will take care of them, right?” <br/>“Could get violent,” Jojo said. <br/>“Let’s stay then!” Race exclaimed, looking a little too eager. </p><p>Spot squinted at him. “Your nose is okay? Wasn't it broken?” </p><p>“Ah, uh,” Race seemed to have realized he messed up. “Nope, we were wrong. I just thought it was. You know me, such a drama queen.” </p><p>“Uhuh,” Spot said, noticing the look Jojo and Albert shared. The sounds of yelling and negative commotion were drawing nearer. </p><p>“Should we go?” Jojo asked. <br/>“We probably should,” Albert replied. They had just taken a couple of steps when Race suddenly slapped his hands on his chest. “My fairy wings!” </p><p>Jojo grimaced. “Maybe it’s best we leave that here.” <br/>“But that nice twink gave it to me!” Race protested. “It’ll take like, a second, I left it near one of the volunteer tables. I'll be right back, promise.” </p><p>“Race wait-” Albert started, but Race was already zipping back through the crowd.  </p><p>“Don’t worry Al, I got him,” Jojo said and took off after him. Albert stared at them. “Those motherfuckers. Alright, we’ll just stand to the side then. C'mon, I guess,” he walked in the opposite direction and Spot followed. </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>****</strong>
</p><p>They crossed to the next street and stood near an alleyway. They were the most colorful bits of their surroundings; it was eerily empty. Albert’s rainbow flag was hanging around his neck and his face was speckled with glitter. Spot looked like something out of the ’80s, with his shirt and a cardboard sign that said <em> YES HOMO  </em>in bright blue. </p><p>They were minding their own business when a man, clearly intoxicated, stumbled past them and yelled, “Hey faggots, keep your queerness contained to that stupid parade.” </p><p>Albert crossed his arms and ignored him and Spot followed suit. </p><p>“Didntcha hear me, fags? Get your homo shit outta here.” </p><p>Spot rolled his eyes and stepped forward to give the guy a black eye but Albert held his arm out and placed himself in between them. “Just keep walking, man.” </p><p>“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do,” he sneered and reached into his jacket. Spot's eyes widened as he pulled out a gun and waved it in their faces. “Get away!” </p><p>Albert backed away, forcing Spot into the alley. “Don’t make any sudden movements,” he hissed. <br/>“I can take him-” Spot started but Albert just shoved him behind the garbage cans. Spot opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself. He kind of wanted to see where this was going to go. He peered over the top of the cans at Albert’s back. </p><p>“Think about what you’re doing,” Albert said. <br/>The man spat on the ground. “I <em>am </em>a-thinkin'. I'm thinkin’ I put a bullet through ya brain and the other homo can watch ya bleed to death.” He cocked the gun and pointed it at Albert’s chest. Albert twitched. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, pal.” </p><p>“Whatcha gonna do, fag?” the man sneered. Albert's fists were balled and shaking. The man took a step forward and licked his lips. Albert shook his head, and Spot wasn’t sure what was happening until Albert hunched over, his muscles violently spasming. He rolled his neck, letting out a strangled howl. The man’s face went white, and that’s all Spot remembered of him as he saw Albert leap forward and pin the man to the floor.  </p><p>He fell out from behind the cans and ran to the now hairy redhead. He reached out to shake him by the shoulder but Albert turned and growled at him. Except it wasn’t Albert. Not really. His face was covered in red fur, some of the glitter still showing through, with eyes of steel and exposed canines. His arms were covered in fur and wrapped tightly around the man’s throat.</p><p>
  <strong>****</strong>
</p><p>Spot took a step back. He'd never met a werewolf before. </p><p>His phone rang as he held his hands up, almost in surrender, backing away from the heaving creature in front of him. He answered the call, not taking his eyes off Albert. “Race,” he breathed. </p><p>“Spot! We found my wings. Where are you guys?” </p><p>“Alleyway on the next street. We got a situation with your... wolf pal.” </p><p>The line immediately disconnected. In a minute, Jojo and Race had found them.  </p><p>Jojo’s hands went up to her face. “Oh, Al...” </p><p>Race dropped to his knees and held a hand out. “Hey, Albie. It's okay, bud. You got him. You got all of him.” </p><p>Albert’s hands started shaking as he released his hold. Jojo sidestepped to Spot’s side and turned him away from him. “Changing back gets messy.” </p><p>Within a few seconds and some strangled sounds later, Albert in human form had sunken into Race’s arms, shivering and crying. His shirt and flag hung ripped around his torso. </p><p>“I didn’t mean to,” he sobbed as Race stroked his hair, “he was just being so fucking stupid...” </p><p>“I bet he was Albie,” Race whispered. He locked eyes with Jojo, who nodded. She turned to Spot and held his arms, making direct eye contact with him. “Spot, I need you to go get us a cab.” </p><p>Spot looked confused. “Are we taking that asshole with us?” </p><p>“No, uh...” </p><p>“Please, Spot?” Race asked wearily, and that was pretty much all Spot needed to send him down the road. By the time he got a car and directed it to where he had left them, the man Albert had put in a chokehold ten minutes ago was gone. </p><p>Spot blinked. What had they done with him? </p><p>The three of them clambered into the cab and set off in the direction of Race’s apartment. The entire ride was silent as Spot racked his brain for an explanation.  </p><p>After the cab dropped them off, Race invited Spot inside, which is how he found himself awkwardly perched on a barstool in their messy apartment again. Jojo made coffee while Race helped Albert... calm down? Spot wasn’t too sure what they were doing. </p><p>“So, Spot,” Jojo said as she set a mug down in front of him, “about today-” </p><p>“Albert’s a werewolf.” </p><p>She sighed and gently rolled her own mug between her hands. “Yeah... please don’t tell anyone.” <br/>“I won’t,” Spot assured her. “Can’t imagine people would like it if they found out.” <br/>“Yeah, we already have a hard time explaining all the fur to our landlord,” she laughed, but it sounded forced. “But really-” <br/>“My roommate is a wizard,” he cut her off. “I get it. It's fine.” <br/>Her face lit up. “Oh. Okay, that’s ni-” </p><p>“And you’re a fairy.” </p><p>She froze for a second, but slowly let her mug roll again. “Guilty as charged. How'd you realise?” <br/>“The name thing. Plus, Race’s nose and the guy. You healed them.” <br/>She shrugged. “It’s what I do. Even though I didn’t want to heal that bastard... Al can’t just go around committing murder, y’know? But I did throw the gun into the Hudson, so all’s not lost.” </p><p>Spot nodded. He hadn’t touched his coffee yet, and he didn’t really feel like it. “Okay. I think I'm gonna head home. Tell Race I had a good time today.” <br/>“Even with the murder?” <br/>“’Specially with the murder.” </p><p>She smiled. “Will do. Thanks for being such a good sport, Spot.” </p><p>He closed the door wordlessly. </p><hr/><p>The minute Spot unlocked his apartment he was met with baby babble and Jack’s laughter. He dropped his keys in the bowl and turned the corner. Jack and Isabelle were doing tummy time together and giggling at seemingly nothing. </p><p>“Demon! How was pride?” <br/>“Good. Race broke his nose and Albert killed a man,” he answered nonchalantly. </p><p>Jack gasped and covered Isabelle’s ears. “Wait, who did what?” </p><p>Spot rolled his eyes and sat on the couch. “Get Davey on the phone, he’s gonna wanna hear this.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>**** Drunk homophobe verbally abused Albert and Spot, and instead of backing down, pulled a gun on them. Albert snapped and transformed into his werewolf side and suffocated the man. ****</p><p>hey guys, i hope everyone is safe. the protests and riots sound super scary from a third person's pov, i can't even imagine what it's like to actually be there. </p><p>if you're protesting, please stay safe. acab, they WILL hurt peaceful protesters.<br/>if you can't protest but still want to help -&gt; https://bisexual-fox-mulder.tumblr.com/post/619739072913620992/ways-to-help-protestors-if-you-are-unable-to<br/>if you want a list of bail funds to donate to -&gt; https://linktr.ee/transnormativity<br/>if you can't donate or protest, but still want to help the movement -&gt; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bCgLa25fDHM&amp;t=1231s</p><p>i know this may not be the most effective but i'm just super worried about everything going on.<br/>covid-19 is still a thing so please wear masks and avoid protesting if you're immunocompromised!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>race finds out about little izzy</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Every now and again, there were moments of full peace in the Kelly-Conlon house. Usually, if it wasn’t Isabelle’s crying, it was her babbling. If it wasn’t her babbling, it was Spot’s show (he’d moved on to The Simpsons after finishing SVU.) If it wasn’t that, it was Jack’s offkey singing to old rock songs as he painted. But on some days, when the weather was nice and the baby was asleep, Jack and Spot would sit on the fire escape and just watch the city. This particular day, Jack had his sketchbook out and was idly sketching as Spot sipped a beer and watched a couple make out in the alleyway below them.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Spot wasn’t thinking about anything in particular. He let his mind fill with static as he listened to the traffic and sound of graphite on paper next to him. It had been two days since pride happened and Albert had accidentally outed himself as a werewolf, and Race hadn’t answered his texts or picking up his calls. He gave up after a while, deciding that if Race wanted to talk to him he would.</span>
  
</p><p><span>“Demon?”</span> <br/><span>“Hm?” He looked at Jack, who was squinting at the road below. “I think someone’s tryna get your attention.”</span></p><p>
  <span>“Eh?” He peered down and saw Race, waving up at him with both arms.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Spot!” he yelled, “can I come up?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He immediately stood up. “Wait there,” he yelled back. He went back in through the window and hurried downstairs.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Race was rocking on the balls of his feet when he came out. Relief washed over his face as he ran to him. “Spot, I'm really sorry I haven’t been using my phone, I accidentally dropped it in the toilet and-”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Spot relaxed. “'S fine, Race.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Great." He hesitated for a second. "I, uh, I'm also sorry you had to see Albie like... that.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Spot nodded. “I get it. It's okay.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Race’s slender fingers fiddled with the edge of his tee. “You’re not gonna rat him out or anything, right? Or like, leak our address to one of those anti-magic organizations?”</span>
  
</p><p><span>Spot scoffed. “That’d be ironic.”</span> <br/><span>“Why?”</span></p><p><em><span>Shit. </span></em><span>“Oh, uh, my roommate’s a wizard.”</span> <br/><span>“Ooh, cool. Is that him?” Race asked, gesturing to where Jack was still sitting and waving from their </span><span>first-floor</span><span> apartment.</span></p><p><span>“Hi!” he called. “I’m Jack!”</span> <br/><span>“Race!” he called back. “Nice to meet you!”</span></p><p><span>“Okay, that’s enough I think,” Spot said, glaring up at Jack. He just grinned and gave him a thumbs up.<br/>“It's not that cool though, he’s a pain in the ass.”</span> <br/><span>“Nah, eldritch roommates are fun,” Race chuckled as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Okay, I just wanted to come and apologize. I didn’t want you to think I was ignoring you or anything.”</span></p><p><span>“'S fine, I get it,” Spot assured him. Race’s eyes twinkled as he let out a sigh. “Alright, great. See ya, Conlon.”</span> <br/><span>“Later.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Race turned on his heel and headed back the way he came. By this time, Jack had come downstairs. “Hey, invite him up.”</span>
  
</p><p><span>Spot stiffened up. “Why?”</span> <br/><span>“He came all this way to apologize, you can’t send him off without coffee or something.”</span> <br/><span>Race was a block down the road. “Too late, he’s too far away.”</span> <br/><span>“Aw, not that much, if you just yell-”</span></p><p>
  <span>Spot groaned and grabbed Jack’s collar, yanking him back into the building. He yelped and jostled his way out of his hold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell man?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They held their gaze for a couple of seconds before Spot pulled away. “He doesn’t know about Isabelle.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Jack halted. “What?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Spot started powerwalking up the stairs.</span>
</p><p><span>“What do you mean he doesn’t know?” Jack asked, jogging to keep up with him.</span> <br/><span>“He just doesn’t know,” Spot said.</span> <br/><span>“But it’s been a month since you met him.”</span> <br/><span>“I know.”</span></p><p><span>Jack crossed his arms. “You </span><span>realize</span><span> you have to tell him?”</span> <br/><span>Spot unlocked the door and unceremoniously shoved his way inside. “I don’ see why.”</span></p><p><span>“Because, Spot!” He waved his arms in frustration as he gestured at the crib. “She’s a part of your life.”</span> <br/><span>“I hide the fact that I'm a demon from him, and that’s part of my life too.”</span> <br/><span>“This is </span><em><span>different.”</span></em></p><p>
  <span>“I don’ see how it is!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span> Their argument was broken by Isabelle, who had chosen then to wake up crying at full volume. Jack immediately rushed to her side and picked her up, gently shushing and bouncing as he did.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced </span>
  <span>back</span>
  <span> at Spot who still looked unsure. “You can </span>
  <span>camouflage what makes you a demon. Ya can’t do that with a whole human. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>say you’ll try,” he glared as Spot opened his mouth and shut it again.</span>
  <span> He sighed.</span>
</p><p><span>“I can’t.”</span> <br/><span>“Spot-”</span> <br/><span>“Look, it’s fine, a'ight? He ain't comin' over much anyway. He doesn’t need to know.”</span></p><p>
  <span>“It </span>
  <span>doesn’t</span>
  <span> make sense, demon,” Jack said as he rummaged through the fridge for a bottle of formula. “Are you just </span>
  <span>gonna</span>
  <span> hide her away forever?”</span>
  <span><br/>"If I have to."<br/>"Spot! You sound so stupid right now, it ain't funny."</span>
</p><p><span>Spot flopped onto the couch and rubbed his eyes. “Ugh, fine. How do I explain it to him without him thinking it’s weird?”</span> <br/><span>Jack placed the bottle in the microwave. “You can say anything.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Spot raised an eyebrow. “Sure. ‘Hey Race, this is a baby I'm raising with my roommate and his boyfriend.’ Even l </span>
  <span>know</span>
  <span> that </span>
  <span>ain’t</span>
  <span> normal </span>
  <span>soundin</span>
  <span>’.”</span>
  
</p><p><span>“Hey, he </span><span>don’t</span><span> know what our normal is. What if we were polyamorous?” Jack asked indignantly.</span> <br/><span>“But we’re </span><em><span>not</span></em><span>!”</span></p><p>
  <span>“Fine. How about we’re...” Jack trailed off as he took the bottle out and stuck it in Isabelle’s mouth, “godparents? Yeah, yeah, Kath died and left us in charge, it’s basically true.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Spot bit his cheek. “That’s better than nothing, I guess.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It is,” Jack confirmed. “Go tell him now.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What? But he just came here.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter.”</span>
  
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Unsurprisingly</span>
  <span>, Spot didn’t go back to tell Race he was fathering a child that same day.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>In fact, it took him a couple of months.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t his fault, though. The next time Spot saw him was a week later and though he tried to tell him he couldn’t, so he promised himself to bring it up later. But then Race had exams, and then the café doubled his shifts and the dance studio needed him to do more hours, so he didn’t have a lot of time to sit down for a serious conversation.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Also, he technically didn’t tell him – Race found out on his own, much to Spot’s displeasure.</span>
  
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Sunday mornings were Jack’s favorite part of the week. After Spot left for the gym, Davey would come over. They'd either sit in silence as Davey worked on an assignment and Jack painted, or Jack would drape himself across Davey as he read some of the </span>
  <span>novel</span>
  <span> he’d started the previous day. Then they’d walk Izzy to the park and sit there for an hour, talking softly and just taking each other in.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>On this particular day, Davey had read a chapter of Agatha Christie to a very invested Jack and somewhat invested Izzy. Once Jack had sufficiently fawned over his smart boyfriend, they packed Izzy into her stroller and headed down to Central Park.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>So</span>
  <span> there they were, seated on their usual bench as Jack gently rolled the stroller and Davey excitedly </span>
  <span>explained</span>
  <span> something about </span>
  <span>bullfrogs</span>
  <span> he’d found on a </span>
  <span>late-night</span>
  <span> Wikipedia run when someone jogged past them. A set of keys fell from his running belt in front of the couple, which the runner evidently didn’t notice.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, hold up,” Davey said, grabbing the keys and running to catch up with the man. “Excuse me!”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The man glanced behind him and stopped when he saw Davey run up to him. He took one of his earphones out. “Yeah?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You dropped-” Davey didn’t get to finish his sentence because when he turned around the first thing he noticed was his top – a very familiar tank top with glittery text.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Dance mom Race,” he whispered before he could stop himself. Race squinted at him, amused. “Sorry, do we know each </span>
  <span>other?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>By this time Jack had taken the stroller and hurried over. “Everything okay, Daves?” He caught sight of the tank top too, and his face lit up. “Race?"<br/></span>
  <span>"...Yes?"<br/></span>
  <span>"Hey, it's Jack, Spot’s roommate.”</span>
  
</p><p><span>Race blinked, and then broke into a full grin. “Oh, of course,” he said, shaking Jack’s hand. “We’ve sort of met, yeah?”</span> <br/><span>“From our fire escape, yes.”</span> <br/><span>“Ah, yeah I remember,” he laughed. He seemed to finally notice the third human in the vicinity. Race bent and giggled at Izzy. “Aww, who’s this?”</span></p><p>
  <span>Jack’s smile faltered. “This is, uh... um, did Spot not talk to you?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Race straightened up. “About what?”</span>
  
</p><p><em><span>Oh no. </span></em><span>“This is Isabelle,” he said cautiously.</span> <br/><span>“Ah,” Race nodded like he understood, but still looked visibly confused.</span></p><p><span>“And this is David,” Jack said in an attempt to distract him. Davey politely waved. “It’s nice to meet you, Race.”</span> <br/><span>“You too,” Race said, less cheerfully than earlier. “Are you also Spot’s roommate?”</span></p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I’m just the boyfriend,” Davey smiled, but Race didn’t return it.</span>
  
</p><p><span>“Spot’s boyfriend?”</span> <br/><span>Davey snorted. “God, no. I'm his,” he said as he jerked his head at Jack.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Okay, that’s sweet,” Race said, relaxing slightly. “So... Isabelle is yours then?” he asked, gesturing to the two of them. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Jack and Davey shared an uncomfortable grimace, reaching the same conclusion that this was going to be wildly awkward. “Not exactly...”</span>
  
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Spot was packing his stuff up when the door to the locker room opened and banged shut. He didn’t bother acknowledging it – he figured it was just some client.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you tell me?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>This made Spot jump. He turned and came face to face with an unsmiling Race, his nose red and arms folded across his chest. </span>
  
</p><p><span>“Race, what-”</span> <br/><span>“I was on a run this morning when I bumped into Jack and David,” he said, keeping his gaze fixed on Spot, “and</span><span>Isabelle.”</span></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Race...”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t get it, Sean.” Spot cringed at the usage of his ‘real’ name. “Why bother hiding it?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t hide it on purpose,” he said. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Race dropped eye contact. “I don’t even care that you’re taking care of a kid,” he said. “I just don’t get why you didn’t tell me.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know how to tell you,” Spot offered. “It ain't exactly the easiest thing to bring up.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe. But I would’ve understood. I do understand. You're doing a good thing, </span>
  <span>y’know</span>
  <span>. Not every orphan is lucky enough to grow up with parents,” Race said, and it dawned on Spot that one, Jack had evidently fed him the godparent story and two, he didn’t know anything about Race’s family.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Co-parents,” Spot corrected. “And... I should’ve told you earlier</span>
  <span>.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Race looked at him and sighed. “I just don’t like it when my friends lie to me, okay? Please don’t do that again.”</span>
  
</p><p><span>Spot nodded. “I won’t.”</span> <br/><span>“Promise me?”</span></p><p><span>It took every muscle in his human body to stop himself from physically cringing. “I said I won’t, Race-”</span> <br/><span>“Please?”</span></p><p>
  <span>Spot hesitated. Promises were obviously a tainted idea for him now, and there was still that big secret he was hiding from Race. In spite of that, he still found himself saying, “I promise.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A small smile formed on Race’s face. “Thanks. You </span>
  <span>wanna</span>
  <span> keep me company in the café?”</span>
  <span> <br/>Spot nodded and shouldered his bag. "Of course." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could deal with the complications later. Right now, he had a vegan café to occupy.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i made moodboards for this fic hehe</p><p>https://newsies-of-new-yawk.tumblr.com/post/620310580556890112/part-2-of-my-modern-fantasy-au-eldritch-horrors &lt;- here's jack's, the rest can be found by searching #EHIP AU on my tumblr newsies-of-new-yawk</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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